


You call it crime

by JuZu



Series: We call it smart family business [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Fluff, Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, M/M, Mafia AU, Minor Character Death, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuZu/pseuds/JuZu
Summary: Don Geralt finds himself with a child and a boyfriend, and now has to deal with them as well as his violent criminal life. It turns out that a criminal like him can have a family too.
Relationships: Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: We call it smart family business [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874068
Comments: 73
Kudos: 277





	1. Child Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I finally worked up the courage to post this.
> 
> First and foremost, none of these characters are good guys. All of them are criminals and murderers even if I paint them in a good light. 
> 
> I started writing this back in March, as my Corona coping mechanism, and now it's a novel. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Thank you Alma for being my inspiration, thank you [this_gdmn-thing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_gdmn_thing/pseuds/this_gdmn_thing) and Dennis for being my Beta. I love you all more than I can tell.
> 
> Every chapter will have chapter specific trigger warnings, as I tend to get quite graphic. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a failed mission, Don Geralt has a child on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Violence, Gun violence, Murder, Blood

It had started out as just a normal routine mission. They had even been joking about why Don Geralt had been there because they could have done it easily themselves. But somehow, somewhere, things had taken a bad turn. They had known that they had been coming, and the resulting fight had been bloody and nasty. In the end, it was just Geralt and Duny who were still standing. They were breathing heavily while trying to stay as quiet as possible.  
  


"Someone must have ratted us out," Duny said darkly.  
  


"Hmm," Geralt said. "No use crying about that now. We have to get out of here and regroup. Then we'll teach them a lesson about messing with us."  
  


"Yeah, good idea, but they got us pinned down." Duny drew the big gun from his back and shouldered it. "I see only one way about it now. I'll cover you, so you can get away"  
  


"Are you insane? I'm not running away from a fight, Duny." Duny grinned.  
  


"That's not what I meant. See that staircase? If you get up there, I imagine you can get quite a nice shot. Or deploy that special package, you know that prototype I gave you earlier. If we work well, we might well both get out of here alive." Geralt wanted to protest, but he saw he had no other option.  
  


"On my count."   
  


As Duny opened fire, Geralt made his way to the stairs unscathed. Duny had been right, he could take down at least half of them easily before they discovered him. After another round of heated shooting, Geralt managed to find an opening to deploy the package.   
  


With the resulting explosion still ringing in his ears, he raced down. He coughed as he made his way through the smoke, he had to find both Duny and the exit. Then, he turned a corner and saw Duny lying against a stack of boxes. He rushed over but saw he was already too late. He held the dying man in his arms as he took his last raspy breaths.   
  


"Promise, Geralt," Duny heaved. "Promise me you will protect her, they will come for her if you don't." Geralt nodded solemnly. With his last strength, Duny pulled a small photo frame out of his pocket and pressed it in Geralt's hand. "Thank you, Geralt," he managed, and coughed again, coming up bloody. "It's been an honor serving you."   
  


As the dying man went slack in his arms, Geralt looked down at the picture frame. In it was a small girl with a radiant smile and bright hair. He didn't know where this promise would take him, but he knew that he would fight for it with his life in honor for his best wingmate and friend who had honored him until his last breath.  
  


Later that night, Geralt walked down a dark and rundown street. He knocked on the door of number 20, the address where Duny lived. After a while, the door was opened slightly by a young girl. Even though she was small, she stared Geralt down with bright eyes. Geralt got down on his knees to face her. 

"Hello, Ciri."

* * *

There was a knock on the door and Ciri's stomach dropped. Daddy always told her that a knock meant bad news. She had always nodded, she was young but she knew. Daddy had a dangerous job, he would not come home one day. She shuffled on the couch and thought back to daddy's words. _  
  
_

_“Only open the door when they knock. Hide when they ring the doorbell.”_   
  


Whoever was in front of the door had knocked, so she jumped up, her pale pigtails flowing after her. She tiptoed to the door and turned the key to unlock it. She slowly pulled it open and looked at the man standing there. She knew him, he was a friend of daddy's. She had seen him a few times when she secretly peaked at daddy's meetings. Her eyes followed him as he knelt down.   
  


"Hello Ciri," he said.  
  


"Hi..." she responded softly. "Where is daddy?"   
  


He wasn't behind the man, daddy wouldn't knock. Daddy would walk in, give her a hug, and tell what he did, like saving people or catching bad guys. But daddy wasn't there, just this man.  
  
  


"Daddy... Is.." Geralt sighed. He didn't know how to tell a child that her father had died. His silence spoke volumes and little Ciri understood.  
  


"Daddy isn’t coming home anymore," Ciri whispered. Geralt nodded.  
  


" He isn’t. I’m sorry." Ciri opened the door further, tears in her eyes. Geralt gave her a gentle pat on her head.  
  


"Can I come in?" he asked softly. Ciri stepped back. Geralt stood up and guided the girl inside, closing the door behind him.

* * *

The funeral of Duny was small, only a few people were there. Ciri was clinging to Geralt, refusing to let him go for even a second. He held the little girl dressed in black as the coffin was lowered, remembering his promise.  
  


"I will keep her safe, don't worry about her." Geralt whispered as he rubbed Ciri’s back. Ciri waved her daddy goodbye then rested her head on Geralt's shoulder. She didn't cry, she had never cried in public as daddy had taught her.   
  


He would always say _“It is okay to cry my little Cucciola, but don't show the world you are sad. Let the world see that you are strong and brave so that they know who you are!”_

_“A Rivia, daddy?” Ciri asked with big eyes._

_“A proud Rivia!”  
  
_

"Do you want a moment alone with daddy?" Geralt asked the little girl. She nodded and Geralt put her down and stepped back, gesturing the others to do the same. But Lambert didn't listen, he jumped forward and pulled the girl away from the grave. Not a moment too soon, a gun was fired and a bullet landed on the place Ciri sat.   
  


"TAKE COVER!" he yelled and took off with Ciri. Geralt followed, guns were fired from what sounded like all directions. He pulled out his gun and turned around, firing at the attackers. The two men dropped to the ground. Geralt recognized them immediately and growled. Russo’s. This time none would escape his wrath. He quickly left the graveyard before any backup could show up. Lambert was already in the car and had it running. As soon as Geralt entered he sped away.   
  


"That was close boss. Sorry about disobeying..." Lambert said. Geralt leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.   
  


"You did what you had to. Don't worry about it," he said wearily. The fighting spirit of the Russo’s was exhausting, now even more than ever.

  
  


Ciri whimpered softly, trembling like a leaf. She had no idea what was going on and she was terrified. Geralt opened his eyes and looked at the little girl. She was white as a sheet, big tears streaming down her face. He reached out and softly put his big hand on her small hands. She flinched and looked at him with a whimper.  
  


"Sssh. It's alright little one. It's just me," he whispered. "Do you want me to hold you?" Ciri nodded and sniffled. Geralt unbuckled her seatbelt and held her against his lap, softly whispering to her and rubbing her back.  
  
  


Lambert looked in the mirror and smiled. He never thought he would see Geralt like this, vulnerable and loving. Ciri had been with them for a little while and he already adored the little girl. She was a little scared at first, but after she drew a picture of him his heart melted. He took her on his shoulders around the mansion and showed her paintings of former bosses. He made up stories about them, making the little girl laugh. It was weird to hear laughter in the mansion, but it was a welcoming sound. He wondered what would happen now, this wasn't exactly a place for children. How Duny managed to take care of her and do his job was a mystery.

  
  


The car came to a slow stop in front of the mansion. Geralt didn't wait for Lambert to open his door, he stepped out and walked with big strides to the mansion. He heard Lambert run after him. Geralt was done with the Russo's. He was growling, his whole stance set on murder. As soon as Lambert caught up with him, he shoved Ciri in his arms.   
  


"Watch her," he said and slammed the door of his office shut. If they wanted war, a war they would get. Geralt called every caporegime under him to the mansion and made plans of attack.

* * *

Lambert stumbled back with Ciri in his arms.   
  


"Boss? Boss!!" he tried, but the door was slammed shut in his face. He was not a damn babysitter, for God's sake. Ciri's sniffles pulled him back to her. She looked up at him with big, teary eyes and he sighed.   
  


"Come, let's go get a drink and a snack alright?" he asked. Ciri nodded and off to the kitchen they went. Lambert sat her down on the counter and looked for something for her to drink.   
  


"I don't think you like whiskey?" he tried to joke, but Ciri started crying instead. He quickly took her in his arms again.  
  


"My joke wasn't that bad..." he muttered and rubbed her tiny back.

  
  


Durjan watched Lambert with Ciri in his arms. A child, here? He scoffed and crossed his arms. He hated how Geralt made the promise. She didn't belong here. He glared at them from a distance, trying to freak out Ciri. He succeeded, as soon as Ciri made eye contact she shrieked and clamped onto Lambert.   
  


"Durjan, fuck off," Lambert growled. "The funeral was today, can you keep away until never?!" Durjan rolled his eyes.   
  


"She's a baby, she doesn't belong here. Why don't we drop her off at some orphanage and be done with it?" he said. Ciri trembled and sobbed.   
  


"Since when did you turn into a traitor? The boss will skin you alive when he hears about this!" Lambert said with a growl.   
  


"He won't hear about this." Durjan pulled a knife and walked to Lambert. "Not a single word." Lambert stepped back until his back hit the kitchen counter. He put Ciri on it behind him, shielding her.  
  


"Don't be stupid Durjan. Don't do this!" Lambert reached for his own gun, but the knife was already pressed against his throat.

  
  


Ciri crawled back against the wall, watching the two men with fearful eyes. She curled up into a ball and covered her head, crying softly. Why wasn't daddy here? Where was Geralt? The new man was still yelling at Lambi and it scared her. She thought back to daddy, his strong arms for big hugs, and everything he taught her.   
  


"If there is ever a bad man, you mess him up like a Rivia..." she whispered. She peeked from under her arms and saw a fruit bowl in front of her. The new man was still yelling. She reached for an apple with trembling hands.   
  


"For daddy," she whispered and picked the biggest one. With a cry, she threw it at the man with all her might.

  
  


Durjan was hit on the shoulder by something and was distracted. Lambert immediately took the moment to kick him in the knees and wrestle him to the ground. He kept him down with the weight of his body.   
  


"You are so dead you son of a bitch," he growled. Durjan struggled under him.   
  


"She doesn't belong here, Lambert! Let me deal with the problem and then it will be over!" he shouted.   
  


"What is going on in here?!" a roaring voice said. Everyone froze. Ciri quickly noticed who it was.   
  


"Geralt!! Lambi caught a bad man!!" she said.  
  


"Did he?" Geralt looked at Durjan, his eyes dark and angry. "Ciri, tell me what happened."   
  


"He... he came in and yelled and he had a knife and Lambi protected me!" she answered.  
  


"Hmm.." Geralt's eyes never left Durjan as he stepped closer to them.   
  


"He wants to get rid of Ciri for you boss, dropping her off at an orphanage. He says she doesn't belong here," Lambert explained, putting more pressure on Durjan's back. Durjan groaned.  
  


"I am right!" he spat. "She's dead weight, you know that boss. Just ditch her, Duny is dead, he doesn't care. If he loved her he wouldn't— Agh!" Geralt kicked him in the face to shut him up. He leaned down, grabbed his collar, and pulled him up. Lambert rolled off Durjan as he was pulled up. His feet barely touched the floor, his hands flew to Geralt's wrists. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, and he was heaving.  
  


"B-boss..." he managed to get out.   
  


"I haven't seen such disrespect in a long time. I do not tolerate these words," Geralt said with a deep rumbling voice. Durjan whined, the realization of what was about to happen seeped in.   
  


"No. No boss I-I never meant it, it was just— just a joke! Haha boss please boss, I never meant it!" Durjan stammered in panic.   
  


"Take Ciri to my office and call Eskel. I have a clean up for him." Geralt ordered.  
  


"Yes, boss!" Lambert jumped up and held his arms out. Ciri crawled to him and let herself fall into his arms. He quickly left the kitchen. "Quick thinking with the apple. You'd make a good soldier if you trained for it." Ciri's face lit up at those words.  
  


"Like daddy?" she asked.  
  


"Yeah, like daddy." Lambert grinned.

  
  


Durjan was shoved against the wall with so much force a shelf clattered on the floor.   
  


"I cannot believe you have the guts to speak like that under my own goddamn roof. I am disgusted by your words and actions. The only dead weight here is you." The last words were spoken so deep they were rumbles in the air. Durjan was trembling like a leaf.  
  


"P-please have mercy boss, please! I will never disrespect you again!" he begged. Geralt let him go with one hand and grabbed a sharp knife from the knife block beside him.  
  


"You are right. You will never disrespect me again. You will never speak badly about me or my family." he said, moving the knife to Durjan's face. Durjan opened his mouth to speak, but Geralt pressed the dull side of the knife against his lips. "Quiet. I don't want to hear it. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out." Geralt said and moved the knife back. Durjan whimpered but did what him was told. The knife was put on his tongue, it was so sharp there was already a bleeding cut.  
  


"Stay still." Geralt pressed the knife down, slowly cutting through his tongue. Durjan whimpered in pain, but his tongue stayed perfectly still. He breathed fast and hard through his nose, his fists clenched around Geralt's wrist in pain. Tears were leaking from his eyes as the knife was pressed deeper into his tongue. Blood was spilling all over his face and chest, and Geralt's hand on his collar. He was still trembling, his face white as a sheet.  
  


"Pathetic. And to think that I trusted you." Geralt scoffed and finished the cut, the severed tongue fell on the floor with a wet splat, blood flowing from Durjan's mouth. 

"Next time it will be your brain for thinking badly. Let this lesson sink in." Geralt warned him and let go. Durjan collapsed on the floor, covered his mouth, and screamed in pain. Geralt dropped the knife and calmly wiped his hands clean on a rag.   
  


"Such a waste of a caporegime. I expected better from you," he said and left the screaming Durjan alone in the kitchen. Eskel would properly dispose of him later, he would never bother Ciri again.

* * *

A week passed since the funeral. Ciri was getting used to her new life at the Rivia mansion. All her belongings were moved to a room in the mansion, but it wasn't much. Duny never earned much money, most of his pay went to the soldiers under him. So when Geralt saw how little Ciri owned, he decided to spoil her a bit. She received a ton of presents, new clothes, toys, craft supplies, anything she wanted. The little girl was thrilled with all her new things.  
  


Most of the men took a liking to the child running around. She was polite and cute and kept away from business most of the time. Those who disliked her and voiced that disappeared. Ciri tried to remember all of their names, but usually she called them sir. There were so many of them, all of them looked alike. There were a few she adored, Like Letho, but Lambert and Eskel were her favorites. 

* * *

Tonight it was Lambert's duty to babysit and it was bedtime. He carried the little girl upstairs to her bedroom, a few doors down from Geralt's room. Lambert worried a bit for the girl. She had been unusually quiet.  
  


"Ciri? Are you alright?" he asked. Ciri shook her head.  
  


"I miss daddy... I miss home," she whispered. Lambert sighed and gave her a pet.   
  


"Yeah I miss him too," he said and held her close. They entered her bedroom in silence. Lambert put her on her bed and helped with undressing. He swore under his breath at the many buttons her dress had, Ciri giggled and repeated the swear word. Lambert stopped immediately.  
  


"Hey there, don't go using words like that. Boss will have my head if you say that!" he said worriedly. Ciri tilted her head.  
  


"But Geralt says it a lot too! Why can't I say it?" she asked.  
  


"Because.. uh... It is a... Grown-up word. Only grown-ups can use it," he explained badly, but Ciri bought it.  
  


"So when I'm a grown-up, I can say it too?"   
  


"Yes and more bad words. But not now."  
  


“Okay, Lambi! Promise!” He sighed relieved and continued with the buttons. After a while, Ciri was undressed and in her pajamas. After a quick brushing of teeth and hair, Lambert tucked the little girl into bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed.  
  


"Do you want a bedtime story?" Lambert asked. Ciri nodded. Lambert started telling a story about heroes from another world named witchers. Ciri loved them, but the girl was so tired, she fell asleep quickly. Lambert pressed a kiss on her forehead and covered her with the blanket.   
  


"Sweet dreams Ciri," he whispered. He quietly made his way to the door and out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cucciola = Cub


	2. A year gone by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed since then. What was supposed to be a day of celebration ends with guns pointing at heads. Luckily Geralt is faster than they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Violence, Gun violence

Geralt shuffled into his bedroom and fell on the bed. It was 5 AM and he was dead tired. Problems with a shipment kept him up all night again and he was done. He pulled the blanket over himself, not even bothering to undress. Right as he was about to fall asleep his phone rang.   
  


"God fucking dammit..." This better be important. He looked at the screen. Eskel. Probably important. Geralt picked up and listened to Eskel and whatever problem he had. The phone call took another hour, Geralt threw his phone next to bed as soon as he hung up. A problem for another day. He closed his eyes, finally, he could sleep.

* * *

"Geralt? Wake up!" He heard a voice from far away. He grumbled. "Geralt!! I'm hungry! Wake up!" Someone shook his arm. Geralt sighed and opened his eyes. Ciri was sitting on his bed, her hair sticking up all over the place. Her face lit up when she saw him awake.

"You're up! Good morning Geralt!" she said bubbly.  
  


"Morning..." He grumbled and sat up. He stretched himself and yawned. He was still exhausted from last night and he felt like he didn't get any sleep.  


"Geralt, can I go downstairs for breakfast?" Ciri asked.  
  


"Not on your own. I'll call Lambert." Geralt crawled to the edge of the bed and retrieved his phone, getting his earpiece in was too much work. 7 AM. Fuck, barely any sleep again. He sighed deeply and dialed Lambert's number.  
  


"Boss?"   
  


"Ciri is hungry, can you take care of her?"   
  


"On my way." Lambert hung up. Geralt let himself fall backward on the bed. Ciri crawled next to him and cuddled up against him. He wrapped his arms around her with a smile.  
  


"Did you sleep well my little Cucciola?" he asked. Ciri had permitted him to call her like that, just as Duny did.  
  


"Yeah, I did. I had a dream about a big knight fighting a dragon, like last night's story!" she said and started rambling about her dream. Geralt wasn't really listening, his eyes drifting shut. He was nearly asleep until Lambert threw open the door, startling him awake again.   
  


"Ciri! Thank Gods you're here. You're not supposed to leave your room alone!" Lambert said and walked over to the bed. "Morning boss. You look like shit."   
  


"Thanks, asshole..." Geralt replied and covered his face. "Please take care of her, I need a shower.."   
  


"How about pancakes today?" Lambert asked and picked up Ciri.  
  


"Yes pancakes!!" she squealed. Geralt waved at them when they left. He debated whether he should sleep for a while or get up. He decided to get up, sleeping now would be useless. There was business to attend to today.

* * *

Ciri sat on her chair at the kitchen island. Her legs were swinging as she watched Lambert bake pancakes. He always made a show of flipping them and she applauded every flip.   
  


"And the first one, watch out, it's still hot." He put the pancake on her plate and she immediately smothered it with syrup.   
  


"Hey hey! Not that much Luce! You won't taste my masterpiece like this!" Lambert took the bottle of syrup and put it next to him on the counter.   
  


"But I love syrup!" Ciri pouted.  
  


"Shush, go eat your pancake missy," Lambert said and continued baking pancakes. Ciri still pouted but ate her pancake anyway.  
  


"Lambert the nanny is at it again." A voice spoke from the kitchen door. It was Cahir, a caporegime and the resident asshole. He had a shit-eating grin on his face. Lambert rolled his eyes.   
  


"Drop it, I'm just making breakfast," he said.  
  


"I didn't even know you could bake pancakes," Cahir said condescendingly. Ciri turned to look at him.  
  


"Can you?" she asked. Cahir stared at her for a moment, then sputtered some words and shook his head.  
  


"Hmm.. useless," Ciri said and turned back to her pancake. Lambert stared at Ciri, the way she held her face reminded him so much of Geralt. Her platinum blonde hair didn't help either. Cahir must have noticed the same thing as he was silent. Lambert grinned.  
  


"Useless indeed," he said and flipped the pancake. Cahir glared at him and left the kitchen.

* * *

After another pancake Geralt finally walked into the kitchen. He sat down next to Ciri and ran his hands over his face.  
  


"Shitty night boss?" Lambert asked and put a pancake in front of him.   
  


"You won't believe it, Lambert. I barely had any sleep," Geralt said. Ciri poked her pancake.   
  


"Did I wake you up too early again?" she asked softly.   
  


"It's alright my little Cacciola. I have a busy day anyway. You woke me up right on time," he said and ruffled her hair. "I'll brush your hair after breakfast, I can't believe Lambert allows you to walk around like this."   
  


"Oi she was hungry, that is more important!" Lambert said and pointed his spatula at Geralt. "And don't you dare touch her hair, you'll mess it up." Geralt stopped mid-bite.   
  


"What do you mean I'll mess it up?" he growled. Lambert sheepishly turned to the pancakes again, not all backtalk was accepted.  
  


"Nothing boss. Sorry boss. Coffee?" he quickly changed the subject.  
  


"Yes, thank you." Geralt ate his breakfast in silence and watched how Ciri and Lambert were playing around. He smiled, Duny would be happy to see his daughter like this. Tomorrow it would be a year ago that he died. He wouldn't keep that news from Ciri, she had the right to know. But today would be a fun day, he had a few plans with her.   
  


"After breakfast, we have to go to town Ciri. I need to do a few things there. Make sure the car is ready Lambert," Geralt said.  
  


"Yes, boss." Lambert flipped his pancake, but this time he received no applause. Ciri groaned.  
  


"Do I have to come along? You always take so long to do things!" she whined.  
  


"Yes, you have to come too. Don't complain about it. If you behave we will go to the toy store too," he said sternly. Ciri nodded.  
  


"Okay Geralt," she said and shoved her last piece of pancake in her mouth. Geralt drank his coffee and grimaced. Lambert sucked at making coffee, even if you only had to press a button on his machine, Lambert still managed to make it suck. But Geralt was too tired to actually give a shit and he drank his coffee in one go.   
  


"Are you done Ciri?"  
  


"I am Geralt!" she replied happily. Geralt couldn't help but smile. Ciri brought joy to his house that it sorely lacked. He had to double up on security, but the sheer joy she brought was worth it.   
  


"Alright, let's get you dressed. 10 minutes Lambert." Geralt got up, as did Ciri. She took a hold of his hand and they walked upstairs together.  
  


"Where are we going today?" she asked.  
  


"First we go to townhall. Then lunch. And then I need to pick something up," he answered.  
  


"Townhall till lunch? That takes forever!" she groaned. Geralt chuckled.   
  


"It'll be over before you know it. You do have to dress nice though. No pants today." They entered her bedroom. Ciri sat down on the bed as Geralt picked an outfit for her. This wasn't exactly his expertise, but Ciri's closet was well organized, so it was easy to find something nice. Once she was dressed in a nice royal blue dress, he brushed her hair gently. Ciri did complain a little, but soon it was put in two cute pigtails.  
  


"Put on your shoes, we need to leave." Ciri grabbed her favorite black shoes and put them on, tying the laces in a neat bow.  
  


"Look Geralt, I can do it on my own!" she said proudly.  
  


"Very good," Geralt said and picked her up. Even though Ciri was six, he still preferred to carry her. It felt safer this way. Even though it had been a year since the last murder attempt, he still didn't let her out of his sight without supervision. 

* * *

The car ride was swift and Geralt looked at Ciri.   
  


"Ciri, Cucciola, listen to me. It's been a while since you lived with me. I've done some asking around and I think it's time," he said.   
  


"Time for what?" Ciri asked and tilted her head curiously.   
  


"Time to officially adopt you," Geralt said.   
  


"Adopt? Wait... So you'll be... My daddy?" Ciri asked.  
  


"Yes. I know I can't replace your real father. And you don't have to call me dad, but you will be officially part of my family from today onwards. How does that sound, my little Cucciola?" he asked. Ciri stared at him for a moment, letting all the information sink in. But then she smiled and grabbed his hand.   
  


"Yes I want to be your family and I want to be a Rivia!!" she said excitedly. Geralt beamed himself. The little girl had crawled her way into his heart and refused to leave, but he wouldn't want her gone for the world.   
  


"We have to get some paperwork done at the town hall, then you'll be a Rivia, like me." He squeezed her hand softly. Ciri was beaming for the rest of the car ride, talking about everything and nothing. Geralt and Lambert reacted to her stories and laughed at her kid jokes.

* * *

They arrived shortly at the town hall and Lambert let them out of the car. Geralt carried Ciri to townhall and walked to the front desk.  
  


"Mister Rivia sir, welcome." The lady at the desk greeted them politely. "How can I help you?"  
  


"I have an appointment with Radovid. We are a bit early, I hope he has time immediately," Geralt said politely, but firm. The lady nodded and made a call. After a few short words, she hung up again.   
  


"If you could follow me please." The lady took them to a meeting room. "Mister Radovid will be with you shortly. I'll be back with drinks in a moment," she said, bowed and left. Ciri sat on her chair.   
  


"Will this take long Geralt?" she asked.   
  


"No, I'll make sure of it."

Radovid entered a few minutes after they received drinks. Geralt discussed a few terms with him, Ciri was asked a few questions, but legally everything was in order, so Geralt signed the adoption papers. While this was purely for legal reasons, he could feel Ciri's joy radiating off of her. He shook hands with Radovid.  
  


"How about we go home, Ciri Rivia?" he asked her and the laugh he heard was unforgettable.   
  


"Yes!!" Ciri squealed and jumped up for a hug. Geralt caught her and held her tight.   
  


"Let's go." He nodded at Radovid again and left town hall.   
  


* * *

Lambert was waiting for them. Geralt ran this town, he didn’t need protection when he visited the mayor. He felt weird about the whole adoption thing. He had known about it for a while, but it still didn't feel right as a child doesn’t belong in the family, not this high up the chain, not this close to danger. But Ciri deserved it and Geralt had a fair point if he was shot right now, the power was up for grabs. This way it was ensured to stay with his family name until he had a successor.   
  


Geralt didn't want Ciri into this criminal life and Lambert couldn't agree more. She needed to go to school, go to college, live a normal life without the violence. She would always have a target on her head, sure. But at least she would be happier than here. At least that's what Lambert convinced himself to believe. He longed for a cigarette, but he promised Ciri to stop smoking. He wasn't sure why he did it again, but a promise is a promise.

  
  


It took two hours until Geralt and Ciri we're back. Lambert let them into the car and stepped in himself.   
  


"Where to, boss?" he asked.  
  


"The usual restaurant. We have to celebrate." Geralt replied. 

* * *

They sat at the table, Lambert stood next to them. Geralt ordered drinks and cake then looked at Ciri.   
  


"Ciri. I have something for you," he said and gave her a box. Ciri quickly opened it. Inside was a necklace made out of a wolf pin, as Geralt and Lambert had on their coats and jackets.   
  


"Wow..." Ciri whispered.  
  


"This pin was originally your father's. I want you to have it." Geralt was silent for a moment. "Tomorrow it's been a year since he passed away. I want you to have something to remember him by." Ciri nodded with tears in her eyes.

"I miss daddy a lot," she said softly. Geralt sighed and pulled her on his lap.   
  


"But now you'll carry him with you every day," he said and put the necklace on her. "He will watch over you." Ciri nodded. She leaned back against Geralt, refusing to cry. Geralt wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a kiss on the head and felt something cold against his temple. Then he heard the click of a gun.   
  


"Fuck," he muttered. Not this again.

"Don't move. You're coming with us. All of you," a voice said. Geralt slowly turned his head. A young man had his gun pressed against Geralt's head, he obviously tried to look intimidating, but he was scared. He glanced over to Lambert, who was on his knees, his hands behind his head, another man had a gun at his head. He had to fix this himself. Again.  
  


"Get up," the man ordered him. Geralt adjusted his grip on Ciri so he could lift her too.  
  


"GET UP!" the man yelled. Geralt slowly rose, keeping eye contact with him.   
  


"Walk away. I will allow you to live if you run now." Geralt said, his voice rumbling and dark.  
  


"N-no, you're coming with us. He wants her!" That was the one thing Geralt did not want to hear. He kept his eyes on the man.  
  


"Then perish." With lighting fast movement he grabbed the gun and pushed it upwards, shots were fired into the ceiling. Screams erupted from the other patrons, panic broke loose as people tried to run. Ciri screamed and covered her face. Lambert jumped up immediately and tackled the other man. Geralt growled and crushed the man's hand, the sound of breaking bones audible over the screaming. The man cried out in pain and dropped the gun. Geralt pulled him closer.  
  


"Nobody. Hurts. Her." he growled. He let the hand go and grabbed his own gun, a sleek pistol with a long barrel. He aimed at his head.   
  


"Cover your eyes Cucciola," he told Ciri, and once she did, shot him in the head. He watched the body drop unto the floor, then he shot the other. Lambert was already up.  
  


"Sorry boss. They snuck up on me too," he apologized, he was being a lousy bodyguard.   
  


"Find out who they work for and eliminate them," Geralt ordered and turned to Ciri. He gently rubbed her back and nudged her head with his chin. She looked at him with big eyes filled with fear. He pressed a kiss on her forehead.  
  


"It's alright Ciri. They are gone. They won't hurt you anymore," he muttered. Ciri nodded slowly.  
  


"Can we go home?" she asked with a small voice.  
  


"Yes. Let's go home," Geralt said and walked outside, Lambert following closely behind him. Geralt's men walked past them, quickly moving the bodies. This was an act of war, they didn’t need the police to investigate this. 

* * *

The car ride home was silent. Ciri looked at her lap, the little girl was still afraid something would happen.   
  


"Hey," Geralt said softly. "You have always been safe. Lambert and I won't let anything happen to you, ever." Ciri looked at him.  
  


"Never ever?"   
  


"Never ever." Ciri reached out for him. Geralt took her in his arms, petting her until they were home.

* * *

Lambert opened the door for Geralt. Ciri was nearly asleep in Geralt's arms. He carried her to the house, softly petting her hair. She let out a soft whimper and curled up in his arms.   
  


"Sweet dreams my dear. I'll be in my office," he whispered to her.  
  


"No... Stay Geralt..." she muttered softly.  
  


"Can Lambert stay with you?" Ciri nodded.   
  


"Lambi..." she opened her eyes a bit and reached out to him. Lambert sighed.  
  


"Boss, I am not a babysitter. I have a job to do too," he tried, but Ciri was already hanging unto him. "Ciri no."   
  


"Lambi...." Ciri whined. His resistance crumbled and he took her in his arms.  
  


"Alright, I'll stay." He sighed and walked to her bedroom. 

* * *

Geralt walked into his office and immediately called Eskel.  
  


"Do you have any information?"   
  


"It seems they are with the Russo's. We found another house. What do you want, boss?"  


"Burn it to the ground. You don't have to be careful. Send the message," Geralt said.  
  


"Yes, boss. Right away," Eskel said and hung up. Geralt leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. He thought he took them all out a year ago, but they were like cockroaches. Ciri shouldn't be going outside the gates until they were all exterminated. But he couldn’t figure out why they targeted her. He sat up straight and called Eskel again.  
  


"Boss?"  
  


"Get one of them, as high up the chain as you can find. I want to talk."

* * *

"I went from a bodyguard to a glorified babysitter. Not that I don't like Ciri, I adore her, but everyone calls me fucking nanny! I used to be feared among everyone and now I am the laughing stock! I don't know what the fuck the boss is thinking, but I hate it!" Lambert ranted to Coën while pacing the kitchen. Coën was the head of the house and cook, he ran the Rivia mansion like an oiled machine and was in charge when Geralt wasn’t around.  
  


"That's nice Lambert," he said, not listening to Lambert. The man was always complaining about something, this was no different. Dinner needed his attention.  
  


"Nice?! It's not nice, it's hell! I can't look badass with a child on my arm!" Lambert went on. "The boss can, but I cannot! I tried," Lambert sighed. He stopped pacing through the kitchen.  


"Lambert, is that the problem?" Coën asked. Lambert didn't answer. "What's really going on?" Coën tried again. Lambert mumbled something and sat on a chair at the kitchen island.  
  


"What was that? Speak up!"   
  


"I think the boss might replace me!" Lambert yelled.   
  


"Replace you? You are his right-hand man and best friend, he will never replace you. Why do you think that?" Coën asked and turned off the heat of the stove. He joined Lambert at the kitchen island with two scotch. Lambert did actually need a friend this time and Coën would be that friend.  
  


"I fucked up today. I let two guys sneak up on me while at a restaurant, they were after Ciri... The boss dealt with them and I didn't. I'm dead meat Coën," Lambert said sadly and downed his scotch. "I am useless to him if I can't do my job! I won't last a week. You know what happened to the last guy."   
  


"Lambert, the last guy was a traitor, that doesn't count, and he was with Vesemir, not Geralt. You're not just his bodyguard, you are his best friend. I would bet my life on that fact." Coën sipped his scotch. "Besides, Ciri loves you. Do you really think he will hurt her?"  
  


"What a relief, I'm alive because of her, not because of myself. Hooray," Lambert said sarcastically and rolled his eyes.  
  


"Stop being such a downer. Who saved Geralt when the federal agents tore this place apart and got shot for it?"  
  


"I did..."  
  


"And who saved his life when that drug smuggle went bust?"  
  


"I did.."  
  


"And who managed to get the car to safety after it exploded and was on fire?"  
  


"I did.."   
  


"And that's only what I can think of right now. You are exactly what Geralt needs. Don't put yourself down because you messed up once. Take another scotch and be the best babysitter Geralt wants you to be!" Coën said. Lambert was looking up but deflated at the word babysitter. Coën rolled his eyes and went back to cooking.  
  


"Who else looks after Ciri?" he asked.  
  


"The boss obviously. I do and Eskel does when he's here. A few of my men too sometimes," Lambert answered.  
  


"That's it?"  
  


"Yeah, that's it."  
  


"So you are telling me., Coën turned around to face Lambert, "that you have the privilege to look after the great Don Geralt's daughter and still complain about it? All the other guys laugh at you while they're not allowed to touch her with a ten-foot pole and you get to carry her around like your own. You are not a glorified babysitter, you are Ciri's guardian. Try to remember that." Lambert was speechless. He never thought of it that way and it showed. Coën went back to dinner. "Geralt won't replace you, you are too valuable. Now stop moping in my kitchen or I'll tell Eskel."|

"Nooo don't tell him, I won't hear the end of it," Lambert groaned. "But thanks Coën. I really needed that."   
  


"Any day my friend. Now go set the table, dinner is ready."  
  


"Yes sir!”

* * *

Geralt looked up when someone knocked on his office door.   
  


"Come in." Coën opened the door.   
  


"Sir dinner is ready."   
  


"Thanks, I'll be right there." Coën nodded and closed the door again. Geralt read the files in front of him again. The failed shipment of last night would cause lasting trouble. He was trying to find replacements, but it wasn't easy. Then another knocked at his door, a very soft knock, Geralt nearly missed it.   
  


"Come in," he said without looking up. The door opened and little Ciri looked inside.  
  


"Geralt? Are you coming?" she asked.   
  


"Yes, I'll be right there, go on ahead and eat with Lambert. I need to finish this." Geralt still hadn't looked up and couldn't see the disappointed look on Ciri's face.   
  


"Alright..." she whispered and closed the door again. Now Geralt looked up.   
  


"Shit Ciri!" he stood up immediately and walked to the door with big strides. Today and tomorrow we're not days to focus on work, Ciri needed him and he would be the best damn dad in the world if he had to be. Geralt opened the door and saw Ciri sit on the floor on the other side. He knelt down.  
  


"Hey... Ciri," he said softly and put his hand on her shoulder. Ciri didn't look up, she just crossed her arms.   
  


"Daddy did this a lot too. He was always busy," she whispered. Geralt felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He gave Duny the difficult assignments, he had caused this himself. Geralt picked up the girl.   
  


"I know. And I am very busy too. But if I promise that I will only skip dinner when I have a job outside the house, will you be happy again?" Geralt asked. Ciri looked at him with a pout. "I can't always have dinner, I have a job to do too Cucciola."  
  


"Do you promise?"  
  


"I promise," Geralt said and already regretted it, he would never get work done like this. But Ciri smiled again and that was enough.  
  


"Okay, I'm happy again!" she said and booped him on the nose. Geralt chuckled.  
  


"Alright, let's have dinner and then I really have to get back to work."

* * *

Geralt actually managed to wrap things up relatively early. While it was still past midnight, it was earlier than usual. He undressed and got ready for bed when he heard his phone beep, there were noises in Ciri’s room. He looked at his phone, the security camera in Ciri's room showed that she was crying. Geralt was debating whether he should go to her or not. He didn't get any sleep for the past few nights and he would add one more if he went to Ciri. He was exhausted. But guilt was already gnawing. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He couldn't leave Ciri alone now. He quickly put on some sweats and a shirt and went to Ciri's room. He could hear the sniffling coming from the other side of the door. He knocked softly and the sniffling stopped immediately.   
  


"Ciri? Are you alright?"   
  


"I... I'm fine! Sorry, Geralt," Ciri answered.   
  


"Can I come in?" Ciri didn't answer. "Ciri?"   
  


"No," Ciri said in a small voice. Geralt sighed.  
  


"I'll be in my room. You know where to find me. Good night Ciri."  
  


"Good night Geralt." Geralt went back to his room and sat on his bed. He was worried about Ciri, but she clearly didn't want him around. She would come when she needed him. He crawled into bed and turned off the lights. Maybe he could do something in the morning. He closed his eyes and quickly drifted off. 

  
  


Geralt woke up to someone tugging his hair. He cracked open one eye and saw Ciri on his bed.   
  


"Hey..." he whispered and pulled up his covers. Ciri crawled into bed and cuddled against him. Geralt wrapped his arms around her.   
  


"Bad dream?" he asked. Ciri nodded. Geralt pressed a kiss on her head. "I'll protect you. Go to sleep my little Cucciola," he whispered. With a soft good night, Ciri closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep. Geralt stayed awake until he was sure she slept and only then closed his eyes. But every time he was drifting off, Ciri moved or made a sound. He groaned softly and gave up on sleep. There's always tomorrow. Instead, he filled his night with petting Ciri gently on her back. He wondered what would have happened if Duny did survive. In the past year, Ciri had become the light of his life, one of the few positives he had. He listened to her soft breathing and closed his eyes again.   
  


"I love you Ciri," he whispered with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Twitter for wanted 2 chapters a week. I'll post chapter 3 on Tuesday <3
> 
> Cucciola = Cub  
> Luce = Light
> 
> Yes I went all out with adorable nicknames :)


	3. The man at the graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger makes a lasting impression and a prank gone wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Violence/ possible abuse

Ciri stirred early in the morning. The last bits of her dream floated away as she rubbed her eye.   
  


"Good morning Ciri," a soft voice said next to her. She opened her eyes and saw Geralt smiling at her. She smiled too.  
  


"Good morning Geralt," she said and snuggled up against him. "Do you have to work today?"   
  


"Hmmm," was his response and Ciri looked at him.   
  


"Do you?" she asked softly, she felt sad. She knew what today was and she didn't want to be alone. Geralt gave her a kiss on her head.  
  


"I don't. Today is your day, my Cucciola," he said. "We will do whatever you want."   
  


"Can—" she started. She was silent for a moment, Geralt waited patiently for her to finish. "Can we visit daddy?" she asked.  
  


"Of course. For as long as you want," Geralt said and grabbed his phone. Ciri didn't listen to the call he made. Instead, she nuzzled his hair, it smelt really nice. Maybe Lambert could braid Geralt's hair. He braided her hair a few times. She grinned at the idea. Geralt noticed the change on her face and raised an eyebrow. He didn't trust the innocent look on her face but left it. He finished up his call and wrapped his arms around Ciri again.   
  


"What were you thinking about?" he asked.  
  


"Nothing," she said with an innocent smile. Geralt chuckled.   
  


"Alright. What do you want to do first? It's your day." That was what Ciri wanted to hear.  
  


"Can Lambert braid my hair? And yours too?" she asked as innocently as she could.  
  


"Of cou—" Geralt froze mid-sentence.  
  


"Yay I'll ask him bye!" Ciri wiggled free and was out of the room before Geralt could protest.  
  


"Ciri! CIRI RIVIA GET BACK HERE!" he shouted, but she was already gone. "Fuck." Geralt rubbed his face. That was not supposed to happen. But Ciri would definitely cry if he refused now. Great… He sat up with a sigh. This would be a long day.

* * *

"Lambi?? Lambert!" Ciri ran through the house, looking for him. In the living room, dining room, kitchen, but she couldn't find him. Instead, she ran into Coën.   
  


"Good morning miss Ciri. Lambert is in the garage," he said.  
  


"Thank you!" Ciri replied and ran to the garage. She wasn't allowed in the garage, so she banged on the door. "Lambi! Lambi!!" she yelled until he came out in panic.   
  


"Ciri! What's going on, is there danger?" he asked. Ciri shook her head and laughed.  
  


"No! You have to braid my hair!" she said. Lambert gave her an annoyed look and knelt down.  
  


"That's all? Right now, I'm a bit busy?"  
  


"Yes! And Geralt's hair too!" Ciri said triumphantly. Lambert blinked.  
  


"Geralt's hair? Do you mean the boss’s hair? What?" Ciri nodded.  
  


"Yes, he told me it was alright!" she said. Lambert had doubt at that, but who was he to refuse a direct order. 

"If you say so. Let me wash my hands and I'll come upstairs," he said awkwardly.  
  


"Okay, we are in Geralt's room!" Ciri said and ran off again. Lambert stood up and watched her leave. He had never been more confused in his life. Braiding the boss' hair... That would be awkward. He shrugged to himself and washed his hands. If anything Ciri talked him into it, Lambert convinced himself. He made his way upstairs.

  
  


Geralt was already dressed and brushing his hair when Ciri came back.  
  


"So did you find him?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice light.  
  


"I did and he's coming!" Ciri said, bouncing on her feet. Geralt had thought of excuses and protests to keep Lambert's hands out of his hair, but seeing Ciri so happy on a day like today made him change his mind.  
  


"But this is a one-time thing. I never braid my hair. Don't get used to it."   
  


"Even when it looks pretty?" Ciri said in her sweet begging voice. He would not fall for it this time.  
  


"Even when it looks pretty. I'm supposed to be scary, not pretty," he said. Ciri climbed on the bed and watched him do his morning routine.  
  


"Not fair... Not even on my birthday?" she pouted.   
  


"Maybe. I'll think about it," Geralt replied, the answer was a firm no. But not today.

* * *

Lambert walked up the stairs but stopped. He heard a creak that wasn't usually there. His gun was in his hands within a second and he quietly continued upstairs. With his recent failure still fresh in his mind, he had to be careful. But nothing appeared and nothing happened. Lambert put his gun away and growled. This was getting to his head, he won't allow that to happen again. But he had to be careful, he was alone as a guard in the mansion. Every other guy available was on route to the graveyard, every street corner was guarded. The fiasco of last year won't happen again.   
  


But now he faced a different problem. Braiding the boss’s hair. A grin spread over his face. On Ciri's orders, he can't refuse her. All the possibilities to tease him came to mind. He took another moment to collect himself and knocked on the door. The gruff come in from Geralt came and he went in. Geralt was sitting on the bed, brushing through Ciri's hair.   
  


"Don't comment, I find this as awkward as you. Just get it over with," Geralt said with a sigh.

* * *

Jaskier was walking on the graveyard. As a musician, he didn't have a lot of free time, so whenever he got some, he went to visit an old friend’s grave. He was on his way out when he saw a man from a distance. He had his hair in braids and the most gorgeous suit. Jaskier was captivated by his beauty. He watched as the man knelt next to a girl and comforted her. He must be her father, he thought. He kept walking, he didn't want to be rude and stare at grieving people. He looked one last time and locked eyes with the girl. Her eyes were pale and big and filled with sadness. She didn't look away, almost begging him to come closer. Jaskier threw caution to the wind and walked over to the pair.

  
  


Geralt was on edge as the young man approached them. He stood up and glanced over to Lambert, who's hand was already on his gun. The man kept his distance. He greeted Geralt with a nod and knelt down.   
  


"Hey there," he said with a radiant smile. Geralt thought it looked like sunshine personified. But he had to pull himself together because he could be dangerous. He shouldn't be swayed by a smile. Ciri, on the other hand, waved at him.  
  


"Hi," she said softly.   
  


"Are you alright sweetie? Visiting someone special?" the man asked. Ciri nodded.   
  


"My daddy... He's... There," Ciri said with a trembling voice. Geralt could tell she wanted to cry, but she never did in public. The eyes of the man were filled with compassion.   
  


"Can I join you over there?" he asked and looked at Geralt. Geralt glared at him and then looked at Ciri.   
  


"Do you want that Cucciola?" he asked her. Ciri nodded. Geralt motioned and Lambert walked up to the man. They talked in hush voices, the man looked surprised but allowed Lambert to search him. After Lambert gave the clear, Geralt motioned for the man to come closer. He did and sat down next to Ciri.   
  


"Hey, sweetie. I'm sorry your daddy is there," he said. Ciri nodded. The man opened his arms. "Do you want a hug?" Ciri nodded and fell into his lap, curling up against his chest. The man wrapped his arms around her and petted her softly. Ciri let out a sob and cried softly. Geralt was stunned, Ciri had never cried in public, not at the funeral, not after getting shot at. Never. But this man, Gerald had to admit there was something about him that intrigued him. Whoever he was, he made a good impression.   
  


Jaskier held the little girl. Children had always liked him and this one was no different. It was a little weird they had to search him, but he didn't judge. He hummed a song he wrote once for a lover. It felt like time stood still when he sat there.   
  


"What... Wh-what is your name?" the girl asked after a while.   
  


"My name is Jaskier. What is yours?"   
  


"I'm— Ciri," she said with a sniffle. "And that's Geralt." She pointed at Geralt. Jaskier looked up and saw him nod. Jaskier returned the greeting and looked at Ciri again.   
  


"Nice to meet you. Are you feeling better?" Ciri nodded.   
  


"Thank you..." she whispered.   
  


"Any day sweetheart," he said softly and used his sleeves to wipe away her tears. Ciri smiled at him and Jaskier felt his heart flutter.   
  


"Can I let you go now Ciri?" he asked. Ciri nodded. Jaskier slowly let her go and she climbed out of his lap and ran to Geralt. 

  
  


Geralt leaned down and picked her up. Ciri wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"My little Cucciola,” he said as he pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Are you ready to go?"  
  


"Yes, Geralt. Can we pick up cupcakes?" she asked.   
  


"All the cupcakes you want," he said and pressed a kiss on her cheek. Jaskier was standing now and smiled at them. Geralt took a few steps to close the distance between them.  
  


"Thank you Jaskier," he held out his hand and Jaskier shook it.  
  


"Don't worry about it, it was my pleasure," he said. "Take care of each other. Maybe I'll see you later. Bye-bye." Jaskier waved at them and started walking to the exit.   
  


"Bye Jaskier!" Ciri waved at him. "Geralt, I like him."   
  


"Hmmm." Geralt watched him leave and caught himself staring. He quickly walked to Lambert before he kept staring.  
  


"Ask Eskel to pick up cupcakes. We're going home."  
  


"Yes, boss." Geralt walked to another exit. Ciri looked back at Jaskier.   
  


"Do you think we will see him again Geralt?" she asked.   
  


"Maybe. But the city is big," Geralt replied. Maybe if Jaskier wasn't into the wrong business they could meet again. Maybe.  
  


* * *

Eskel had a calm smile on his face, but still, he was shoved out of the bakery as soon as he paid. He sighed and walked to his car. He was used to the way people treated him, the scars on the side of his face scared them. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to, he had a job and family, so he didn't complain. He ignored the looks, the insults, the glares. He stepped into his car and quickly drove to the mansion. His phone rang and he picked up his car kit.  
  


"Hey babe," he said with a grin.  
  


"Don't call me that," Lambert growled. "Where are you?"  
  


"On my way back. I'll be there in 10. How's she doing?"   
  


"She's doing fine. She met a man today," Lambert said and Eskel could hear how he was grinning.  
  


"A man? Did he live?" Eskel asked.  
  


"Yeah, sadly. He was unarmed. His name is Jaskier, he hugged her at the graveyard. I don't think the boss even glared at him. He was something."  
  


"Jaskier huh... I've heard his name before. Cute guy, brown hair, and the brightest blue eyes you've ever seen?"   
  


"How do you know?" Lambert said, a low growl in his voice. Eskel laughed.  
  


"Jealous babe?" he asked.  
  


"Wha— no! Shut up!"   
  


"Sorry babe. He used to be a singer of some band. Nothing big, a small folk band. I don't know the name. He's harmless as far as I know." Eskel said.   
  


"Stop calling me babe!" Lambert said annoyed.  
  


"Or what?"  
  


"You'll sleep on the couch."  


"Ouch Lambert, don't do that to me!" Both men laughed. "I'm almost there. See ya," Eskel said and hung up.

* * *

"It's Eskel, he's home!!" Ciri's face was pressed into the window next to the door. She opened the door and ran outside. "Eskel!!!" Eskel quickly put the box down and picked up the running girl. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed kisses on his cheek, not caring about the scars.  
  


"You're back!!" she squealed. Eskel laughed.   
  


"Yes, I'm back. It's been a while."   
  


"Yes! Stop working so much!" Ciri said, scolding, waving a finger at him.  
  


"You should tell that to Geralt, not me. Also..." He leaned down and picked up the box. "I brought cupcakes."   
  


"Chocolate?" she said with a smile.  
  


"And strawberry."   
  


"Eskel you're the best!" Ciri hugged him again. Eskel smiled and walked inside.   
  


"Lambert! I'm back!" he called out. There was no response from the house. "Where is everyone?" Eskel thought out loud.  
  


"Lambert is busy on his phone and won't talk to me and Geralt fell asleep on his desk," Ciri said.  
  


"Oh... That's boring. That means more cupcakes for us," Eskel said with a wink. Ciri cheered. Eskel got a servant to make tea and walked to the living room. "Okay sit and stay here, I have one more surprise," he said and quickly ran back to his car. Ciri waited patiently in the living room, looking around at the boring furniture and paintings. Ciri agreed with herself that the house could use more blue. And flowers. She would ask Lambi to make a list later.

  
  


Eskel came back with another, smaller box.  


"I got this just for you. Don't tell Geralt or Lambert," he said and opened the box. It contained two cupcakes with multicolored frosting.  
  


"Rainbow cupcakes?!"   
  


"Sssh!" Eskel put a finger on his lips. "Not so loud."  
  


"But these are for special days! Geralt said so!" Ciri whispered.  
  


"It's a present from me," Eskel said. The servant brought their tea and left again. Eskel handed Ciri her cupcake and took his own.  
  


"To us?" he asked.  
  


"To us!" Ciri replied and they toasted cupcakes. Ciri dug in immediately, getting her face covered in rainbow frosting. Eskel laughed.   
  


"Okay, slow down Ciri. Not so fast," he said and wiped some frosting off her cheek with his thumb. "You'll get a stomach ache if you eat that fast." Ciri nodded and chewed slower. Eskel gave her a pat.   
  


"Who did your hair? These braids look really good."   
  


"Lambi!" Ciri said with her mouth full. She swallowed. "And Geralt's too!"  


"Geralt's... Hair?" Eskel asked, confused.  
  


"Yes! Lambi braided Geralt's hair too!" Ciri took another bite of her cupcake. Eskel stared at his cupcake to process it all.  
  


"He looks really pretty. Like... Like a princess!" Ciri gasped. "He should borrow one of my tiara's!"  
  


"Tiara? Ciri I don't think it's such a good idea," Eskel said. Lambert walked into the living room with a grin.  
  


"Aw Eskel, come on. It'll be fun right? The boss can handle a joke," he said. "Especially since it is Ciri's idea." He plucked a normal cupcake out of the box.   
  


"Lambert I really don't thi—"   
  


"He does look like a princess and he's deep asleep. He didn't wake up when I walked into his office," Lambert continued.  
  


"My silver tiara matches his hair," Ciri added. Eskel sighed.  
  


"Fine! Fine. I give up! Right now?" Eskel asked with a grin.  
  


"Right now. Let's go Ciri! We have to pick a pretty tiara," Lambert said, picked up the girl, and went upstairs with Eskel on his heels.  
  


"Oooh, maybe we should add a cape too! I have long capes!" Ciri said.  
  


"If we go that far, we can also add lipstick..." Eskel added innocently.  
  


"Can we?" Ciri giggled.  
  


"Yes, we can!" Lambert said. They entered Ciri's room and went to work. Ciri went through her box of dress-up clothing and found a cape adult size with a lovely baby pink shade. Lambert picked a tiara, silver with a big light pink heart-shaped stone on it. Eskel chooses pink lipstick to go along with it.  
  


"It was nice knowing you babe," Eskel said, the grin still on his face. Lambert shook his hand.   
  


"But it will be so worth it." He picked up Ciri and they crept into Geralt's office.

  
  


Geralt was indeed deep asleep. His head rested on his arms on his desk, his face to the side, breathing slow and deep. Lambert put Ciri down near the door and signaled for her to stay there. Then he and Eskel tiptoed to Geralt. The cape was the easy part, it was quietly clipped to his shoulders. The tiara was a bit harder, but it did slide into his hair and was soon clipped in too. Eskel took his time and slowly and with the precision of a marksman painted his lips pink. While the whole operation took a minute at most, it felt like hours. Once they were done, Eskel couldn't resist and snapped a picture. Ciri had her mouth covered tightly so she wouldn't giggle. They quickly made their escape back to the living room. The three were roaring with laughter.  
  


"I can't believe you talked me into this!" Eskel said. "Geralt will shoot us on the spot."  
  


"Ah come on, he'll think it's funny too. Right?" Lambert said, a little unsure now. Ciri was already munching on her second cupcake, still with a smile on her face.   
  


"Geralt looks really pretty," she said looking at Eskel and then at Lambert. She sat in the middle, the two men on either side.   
  


"Yeah, he does. And so do you," Eskel said, pressing a kiss on her cheek. "Lambert has some braiding skills." Lambert looked away, trying to hide his faint blush. Ciri nodded.  
  


"He learned it just for me!" she said. Eskel's grin melted into a smile.  
  


"That's nice of him," he said.   
  


"Yes, Lambi is the best!"   
  


"Okay stop it, people will start to think I'm actually nice. Anyway, I have things to do bye." Lambert bolted out of the living room. Ciri called after him, but he didn't stop.  
  


"It's alright Ciri. He's not used to being nice. He'll be fine," Eskel said. "But tell me, are you a real Rivia now?" Ciri smiled brightly as she told him all about the adoption.

* * *

Geralt grunted and sat up. Falling asleep at your desk, very classy he thought. He stretched and shook his head. The tiara slipped off his head and sat crooked in his head. He reached up and touched it.  
  


"What the fuck?" How did that get here? He stood up, the cape whooshing behind him. Geralt felt his blood boiling already. He grabbed his phone and turned on the front camera and took a look at himself. He saw the pink lipstick and lost it.

"LAMBERT AND ESKEL GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE!!" Geralt roared through the mansion. Eskel sat up straight and giggled.   
  


"Geralt is awake!" Ciri jumped up and sprinted to his office.  
  


"Ciri no! he's angry!" Eskel ran after her, but couldn't stop her in time. She ran into the office and froze. Geralt was furious, the tiara was on the floor, as was the cape. The veins on his forehead were close to bursting. Ciri stared at him, she had never seen him this angry. She scrambled backward and fell, trembling like a leaf and very afraid of Geralt. She bolted out of the office as fast as she could. Eskel ran into the office as Ciri ran out.   
  


"Ciri!" He turned to Geralt and swallowed.  
  


"Oh... Boss," he said. "Terrible timing?" Geralt didn't respond, he glared holes into Eskel. He was breathing loud and harsh, nostrils flaring. His hands curled into tight fists.   
  


"Sit." Eskel crossed the office and sat down on the chair.   
  


"What the fuck did you do? Did you think this was funny? Humiliating me for your own amusement?" Geralt asked, his voice straining with anger. Eskel swallowed again. He saw the deep bags under his eyes and knew that this was a mistake.  
  


"S-sorry boss.. won't happen again..." he muttered. Geralt growled and slapped him across the face. Eskel's head flew to the side, his cheek burned. This was a big mistake.  
  


"It better not." Geralt raised his hand to hit again.  
  


"Geralt stop!" Lambert ran over and grabbed Geralt's wrist. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Geralt pulled his hand back.  
  


"What did you do, did you really think this was funny?!" Geralt snarled. Lambert grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back into his chair.   
  


"Is hitting Eskel funny? Is scaring Ciri to the point of tears funny?! OVER A TIARA?!" Lambert roared. "Have you lost your fucking marbles Geralt?!" Lambert stood over Geralt, scolding him. "Take a fucking breather. You can come out when you're calm enough to talk like a fucking adult. Let's go Eskel." Lambert pulled Eskel up and left the office slamming the door shut. Geralt rubbed his eyes, gods he needed sleep. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Maybe he overreacted a little. Geralt took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 

* * *

Lambert took a deep breath himself and made sure Eskel was alright.  
  


“I’m fine. Go to Ciri,” Eskel said and Lambert nodded, he went to Ciri's room. He walked in without knocking and found the girl crying on her bed. He walked over and sat down on the floor next to the bed.  
  


"Hey... Luce," he whispered. "It's alright. Don't cry." Ciri looked up from under her blanket.   
  


"But Lambi," she whimpered. Lambert put his hand over hers.  
  


"Geralt is a little grumpy. And he gets scary when he gets grumpy. But he never meant to scare you. Just Eskel and I. You know he loves you right?" Ciri nodded.  
  


"Then you can forgive him for scaring you right?" Ciri nodded again.   
  


"And can you come out to eat cupcakes with us? Eskel will eat them all if we let him." Ciri giggled.   
  


"Let's go!" Lambert said and grabbed Ciri. She giggled as he pulled her out of bed. "There, no more tears," Lambert said and wiped her face.


	4. A message was sent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt gathers information and Jaskier hears things he shouldn’t have and acts on it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Violence, Blood, Torture, Murder

Enough is enough. Being a dad was fun for Geralt, but he was filled with tension and anger and _feelings_ , and he had to get rid of it. Especially after a prank like that, Lambert and Eskel are worse children than Ciri at times. He looked through a pile of files and found the file he needed. Torres, a new caporegime of the Russo family, the one Eskel brought in. This was a good way to get rid of the build-up rage. New meat talks easily. Geralt stood up and pulled his suit on the right spot, the lipstick was already gone. He grabbed a suitcase and left his office. Time to do his job. He made his way to the back of the house with big strides, a servant jumped out of the way.   
  


As he opened the backdoor he heard giggles and laughter from the living room. He gripped his suitcase so tight his knuckles turned white. The door swung closed with a loud bang. He crossed the garden at a quick pace, towards a separate building.  
  


The lights in the room turned on as Geralt walked in. In the middle was a man, Torres Russo, tied to a chair. He was swearing and screaming, insulting everything he could think of. Pathetic, Geralt thought, and easy to break. Geralt put his suitcase on a table and walked over to Torres.  
  


"Let me go! You fucking dogs are disg—" Geralt punched him in the face once, twice. The nose bent and cracked under his fist. Torres howled in pain and spit out blood.  
  


"What... The fuck..." he heaved. "What is wrong with you?!" Geralt calmly took off his watch, his eyes never left Torres. He looked calm to the untrained eye, but Torres knew restraint when he saw it. The anger glowing in his eyes, the tense shoulders, deep and slow breaths. Geralt's entire being emitted rage. Torres swallowed. He was the lair of the most feared man in the continent and who came himself, without help or back up. Geralt placed his watch on the table, it was a gift from his father, he didn’t want to damage it.  
  


"Let me go! I have no business with you! I know nothing!" he yelled. Geralt scoffed.  
  


"I know. You don't know where the main house is, you don't know where they hide, you don't know about ninety percent of their business. You know nothing about the usual. A worm-like you can't handle that kind of information," Geralt said with a smirk at Torres' offended face.   
  


"But you were in charge of a few others I have dealt with. And they knew. And I know you know that. So tell me, why?" Geralt leaned forward. Torres leaned back to headbutt but Geralt was prepared and put a hand on his forehead.   
  


"Oh no, you don't bitch. That won't work on me." He pushed his head back as far as he could. Torres strained and groaned.   
  


"I don't know what you're talking about! Agh let me go!!" he cried out.  
  


"Hmm." Geralt let him go and stepped back to the table. Torres was breathing heavily and spit out more blood.   
  


"Bitch," he muttered. Geralt froze, the handle of the suitcase he was holding broke under the strain. Torres' eyes flew down to the pieces of plastic falling. Geralt turned his head to him.  
  


"This is your first time like this, isn't it?" Geralt asked with a rough voice. Torres nodded. "Tell me what I want to know and you might get a chance to redo it some other day if I like the answer. Why?"   
  


"It's... Why what?" Torres dares to ask. Geralt turned fully to him.   
  


"Why are you after her?" Geralt put a hand in his pocket. Torres needed a moment to realize what Geralt was talking about, but he scowled when he did.  
  


"Because that bitch of yours, her fucking father, slaughtered my brother. My father's son. It's an eye for an eye and— aargh!!" With a few steps, Geralt was by his side and pulled his hair and head back.  
  


"Eye for an eye? That's it? Then I'd have to kill all of you so she can live. Easy enough. Let's start with you," Geralt said and pulled a dagger. "I have a message to send."  
  


"You fucking bitch, I WILL HAVE YOU KILLED!!" Torres yelled. Geralt rolled his eyes. He let him go to punch him hard in the stomach. Torres doubled over and groaned. Geralt grabbed his long hair again and used the dagger to cut it clean off. Torres stared at the falling strands.  
  


"YOU MONSTER!!" He screamed.  
  


"What do you Russo's have with your hair?" Geralt said and kicked Torres so fell on his back.  
  


"Motherfucker... You will pay!!"   
  


"Someday. But now, you will. For hurting my little Cucciola," Geralt said and walked to the table. He put the dagger down and picked up a bat.  
  


"I need to blow off some steam." Geralt walked back, the bat dragging on the floor. Torres struggled but to no avail. Geralt raised the bat, this was a great way to blow off steam. He brought the bat down hard on his stomach. Torres groaned as he spit out more blood.   
  


"That's it?! Beating me to death?!" he brought out. Geralt hit him again at the exact same place.   
  


"No. This is to blow off steam. Your death will be much, much slower," Geralt said and grabbed Torres by the neck. He pulled him up with one arm, holding him on eye level.   
  


"You hurt my Cucciola, I'll hurt you." He threw him against the wall, the chair broke under the force. Torres scrambled to get up, but Geralt hit him again in the face, his chest, his legs. Geralt beat him until Torres couldn't stand anymore, whining in pain. Geralt dropped the bat and looked at the pile of man in front of him. Every part of him was covered in bruises and blood, clothes were ripped and bones were poking out of the skin in some places.   
  


"Hmm." He walked to the suitcase and finally opened it. He pulled out a pair of thick metal ankle cuffs. With trained efficiency, Geralt put them around his ankles and connected a chain to it. With a few pulls, Torres was hanging upside-down from the ceiling. Geralt kicked him in the face, blood pouring from it. He gave him one last look. Torres struggled to breathe, blood was pooling in his mouth and nose. Geralt took his watch and put it around his wrist again. He gave Torres a polite nod and left.  
  


* * *

Geralt walked inside, disgruntled. Duny didn’t kill the man Torres was talking about, that was one of their own, an unlucky shot. Geralt knew he was there. This was all over nothing and he had to go through with it now. He climbed the stairs, wiping his blood-stained hand on his suit. Another one ruined. He froze when he saw Ciri playing in front of his room, clearly, she had been waiting for him to come back. Lambert was sitting on the ground beside her, and he shot up when he saw his boss. Geralt was a mess, covered in blood. Lambert tried to coach Ciri away, but it was already too late.   
  


"Geralt!" Ciri exclaimed, and she ran up to Geralt to hug his legs.   
  


"No Ciri don't—" Geralt said, stopping her just in time.   
  


"Pff, you're a messy man. Just like daddy," Ciri said. "He always said he was a messy man." Geralt stared at her, uncertain about how to react. "Daddy always said to use cold water to wash it out," Ciri said, staring innocently up at him. Lambert decided to interrupt.   
  


"Yeah, good idea Ciri. How about I'll bring you to the kitchen and the boss can get himself clean okay?" He quickly picked up Ciri and bolted.   
  


"Bye Geralt!" She waved at him. Geralt awkwardly waved back, because what the fuck just happened?

* * *

"Ciri, didn't Geralt scare you?" Coën asked. He heard from Lambert what had happened. Ciri was drawing at the kitchen island as Coën was cleaning.  
  


"Hmm... No, not really. Why?" she asked.  
  


"Do you know what— What the mess was?"   
  


"The same stuff daddy was always covered with. It's a work thing right?" she looked up from her drawing. "Daddy said it was a work thing." Coën wasn't sure how to handle this, he had a newfound respect for Duny.   
  


"Yeah it is but— How do you explain this to a child?" he thought out loud, now he knew why they ditched her in the kitchen with him.  
  


"Explain what?" Ciri asked.   
  


"What Geralt does. What your daddy did," Coën said. Ciri smiled.  
  


"Catching bad guys! That's what daddy always said. And something with... Illegal gambling? I don't know what that means, but I heard daddy say that once. I know what he does," she said and went back to drawing. Coën shook his head, catching bad guys it was.

* * *

Eskel sat on a chair and watched Torres. It was his job to clean up the mess Geralt made and that meant today dealing with this scumbag. When he arrived, Torres was swearing, for as far as he could talk, then he was begging. Now he was quiet, the only sound was his shallow breathing and the dripping of blood.

* * *

Lambert handed Geralt's bloody clothing to a servant. He looked at his own bloody hands and groaned, he could wash his hands yet again. Third time in 15 minutes. He made his way to the kitchen and washed his hands there.   
  


"Hey, Lambi. Is Geralt clean?" Ciri asked him.  
  


"Not yet, but he's going to bed after his shower. You'll see him tomorrow again." Ciri pouted.   
  


"No Luce, he is tired. Tomorrow," Lambert said.  
  


"Alright... Hmm..." Ciri said. Lambert stifled a giggle, even Ciri's hmm started to sound like Geralt.

* * *

Under the cover of the night, Eskel brought the body to a different location. Geralt wanted a message, so the body had to be found. They dumped it in a parking lot behind a shitty bar the Russo's were a lot. A dagger with a wolf’s head was stuck in its chest. Eskel quickly drove away, switched cars somewhere, and went back to the mansion. While he had a house of his own, he barely spent time there and would take every chance he could to spend time with Lambert and Ciri. Geralt would forgive him for the sleepover. Hopefully.

* * *

Jaskier was tuning his guitar. A body was found behind this bar a few days ago. He heard it had to do with a gang war or something, but he could care less. He had to perform tonight, and he was focused on that. The bar was a really shitty one, Jaskier wasn't exactly sure why he said yes. He got paid, that was the only reason. He had his own room, but could still hear the noises of the bar pretty loud. Luckily he was a professional, so he focused on his music.  
  


_'We have to act fast, he's unto us.' 'Shut your mouth, he knows nothing.' 'You saw the dagger, it was him!' 'No it wasn't, you idiot!'  
_

Concentrating was very hard with that arguing next door. Jaskier sighed dramatically and stopped tuning. He didn't get paid enough to deal with this shit. The arguing quieted down and Jaskier picked up tuning again and now plucking a practice song. The voices picked up again. Maybe they could offer some inspiration, so Jaskier tried to listen over his own music.  
  


_'So we all agree?' 'Ciri dies this Tuesday. She always goes out then.' 'We might get Geralt too if we're lucky.'  
  
_

Jaskier's fingers froze. Ciri? Geralt? He thought for a moment, those names were oddly familiar. He tilted his head and really tried to think. The... graveyard?  
  


"Oh gods... That can't be," he whispered. Ciri was a child, a young one too. They wouldn't... They couldn't... but what if... Jaskier sat up straight. He had to find them, this was serious. But he deflated again, he had no idea how to find them. He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door.   
  


"5 minutes!"  
  


"Yes, I'm ready!" he said. This was a problem for later. First, he had to play.

* * *

The show went terrible, no one was really interested in whatever Jaskier played. He left the bar in a terrible mood, but he got paid extra, so that was a plus. He walked home, he didn't live far away from the bar. His mind was back at the conversation earlier. Geralt and Ciri... Geralt wasn't that unusual of a name, one of his old roommates’ brother or something was called Geralt. But Ciri, that's a name he hadn't heard before. They could be the same person.   
  


He arrived home, a small one-room apartment. It was shit, but it was home. He gently put down his guitar and fell on the couch.   
  


"They are supposed to be murdered... Getting involved means my own death. And a story for the ages. A musician saves a child and her father. The hero will risk his life for them." He started humming, making a song. He shook his head.  
  


"Not now! Gods... back to business. So getting involved means death or a hero. And death after. Not getting involved means a child might get shot. Well, that's an easy decision to make. Saving them it is! Now I have to find them..." Jaskier stared at the ceiling. "But how?!"

  
  


It was 8 am. Jaskier yawned and closed his laptop.  


"Nothing. How?! I should be able to fucking Google them?! They have tight security... And I need to stop talking to myself..." Jaskier stayed up all night to find the illusive Ciri and Geralt, but he came up empty. He groaned.   
  


"Shower." He stood up and undressed.   
  


"In the moment of need, even when things are down..." Jaskier sang, already composing a song. He sang during the shower, trying to get a tune going. Maybe... Triss could help. She knows everyone. He turned off the shower and ran to his phone, dragging water all over the place. He gave her a call and Triss picked up.  
  


"Jaskier? Is everything alright? It's 8.30. You are never up before 11."   
  


"Haha yeah I know, no I'm fine. I didn't sleep. Hey, I have a question. You know everyone right?" Jaskier asked.  
  


"Almost everyone yes. And no, I will not get you a music deal."  
  


"No no. I need help. So I met a man, big, broad, almost white hair but still young. His name is Geralt. Does that ring a bell?" he asked. Triss was silent for a moment.  
  


"That sounds like Geralt Rivia," she answered.  
  


"Good, tell me everything about him," he said.   
  


"He's a criminal, Jaskier. What are you up to this time? I am not bailing you out!" she said.  
  


"No need, I am just curious. He inspired me and I want to write a song, but I want to make sure it's not about him ya know. It's not the first time I guessed right and suffered for it..." Triss sighed at his statement.  
  


"You and your music... Alright, all I know is that he's a big-time criminal in town, he lives here too. One of those big houses on the east side. He is bad news Jaskier, please forget this tune," Triss begged. Jaskier sighed.  
  


"Yeah, he sounds like bad news... I will use my only ‘listen to Triss’ voucher and drop the song. Because you're the best," Jaskier said sweetly. Triss laughed.  
  


"Thank you for using your voucher. I will give you a new one for your birthday."  
  


"Thank you, darling. I'll look forward to it. I gotta go. Bye-bye!"   
  


"Be careful Jaskier, don't do anything stupid."  
  


"No promises," he said with a grin and hung up. "Found you." Jaskier rushed to dry and get dressed. Within fifteen minutes he was ready and out of the door, a new record. The east side had only a few mansions, Geralt's home should be easy to find.

* * *

  
  


"Master Geralt? There's an idiot going around the neighborhood asking for you. He's at the neighbor’s now. What do you want to do?" Coën asked through his earpiece.   
  


"What does he look like?"   
  


"Male, brown hair, blue eyes, tall."   
  


"Hmm.." Geralt wondered if he should let the idiot in. If he went through all this way to find him, he could reward him with a personal headshot, he already let it be known he won’t approve any favors at this time.   
  


"Let him in when he comes."   
  


"Yes sir."

* * *

Jaskier walked up to the next house, another big fancy house. He felt like a fool, but he had a mission and he would complete it. He rang the doorbell at the gate and waited.   
  


"Who's there?"   
  


"Uh... I'm Jaskier and I'm looking for Geralt. Is this the right house?" He asked. The other side stayed silent. The minutes passed by and Jaskier sighed dramatically.   
  


"You can at least have the decency to answer me! Bloody aristocrats." He was about to walk away when the gate opened.   
  


"Uhm... Yeah okay. Sorry!" he said to the speaker and quickly walked to the front door. It was opened by a man with a black beard in a suit.  
  


"Mister Jaskier. If you could follow me. Master Rivia is waiting for you," he said politely. Jaskier nodded and stepped inside. The house was huge, the hall was immense. Jaskier spun around to take it all in. A cough brought him back to reality.  
  


"Ah sorry." He quickly followed the man upstairs to big double doors. The man gestured at the door. Jaskier hesitated, this was crazy. He could be killed for this. But... So could Ciri. He balled his fist and knocked on the door.  
  


"Come in," a deep voice said. Jaskier glanced at the man, who nodded. Jaskier looked back and opened the door.

  
  


Geralt watched as the young man walked in. He looked nervous.  


"Welcome. Have a seat," he said and gestured at the chairs. The man walked towards the desk and flinched when Coën shut the doors. He was fidgeting with his hands. He looked familiar, but Geralt couldn't exactly place him. As the man sat down he noticed the pistol on the desk. Geralt could see he swallowed, but didn't run. Brave. A fool for sure, but a brave one.  
  


"What brings you here?" Geralt asked. The man was staring at him but collected himself after a moment.  
  


"I— uh... I am— J-Jas— Fuck, sorry... I am Jaskier. And— you are Geralt right?" Jaskier asked, his voice shaking. Geralt nodded.   
  


"We.. we met at the graveyard a week ago and I— I came— here to... I came to— fuck.." Jaskier stammered. He put his hands over his face and sighed. "Why is talking to children so much easier than gorgeous men..." he muttered. Geralt heard him and the corners of his mouth turned up a little. This Jaskier is insane.  
  


"Okay, you got this Jask." Jaskier looked at Geralt again. "I overheard someone say that they want to kill Ciri and I came to warn you!" he said. Geralt raised an eyebrow.  
  


"Explain."   
  


"Last night I was in Preoccuparsi, a bar on the other side of town. Backstage I overheard a few men say they were calling a sniper shoot Ciri and hopefully you next Tuesday. So... yeah, that," Jaskier said. Now it was Geralt's turn to stare. This idiot was insane, this can’t be true. Geralt picked up the gun as he stood up and aimed at Jaskier's head. Jaskier's hands flew up in surrender immediately.   
  


"Why should I believe you?! Three words or less," Geralt growled and clicked off the safety.  
  


Jaskier's mind was racing. Three words or less? How could he explain himself in three words, this situation was crazy, why did he do this to himself _again_ . I should've listened to Triss, he thought. He would die here, at least she knew where he was. Not that it mattered, because if the sniper failed they knew he tattled and then…  
  


"I'll be killed..." Jaskier said in realization. Geralt looked at him but didn't move.   
  


"I'll be killed on Wednesday if they don't succeed Tuesday. I could hear them, so they could hear me. I was on stage the whole night, they know who I am! I am risking my fucking life to warn you, at least let them revenge kill me! Then my death might mean something," Jaskier ranted, staring at Geralt. His fear of death wasn't that strong anymore, it didn't matter anyway.

  
  


Geralt let the words sink in.  
  


"You are risking your life, for a girl and her father that you have met once, because?"  
  


"I don't want the murder of a child on my conscience. I would never forgive myself if she died because of me," Jaskier said. Geralt put the safety back on the pistol and sat down again. Jaskier did not lower his hands.  
  


"Do you know where?" Geralt asked.   
  


"No, I had to go on stage. I told you all I know," Jaskier answered. He was shaking, his breathing fast. He was deadly afraid, but his face was filled with determination. A brave fool indeed. Geralt stood up and put the gun on his belt. He pressed his earpiece.   
  


"Eskel. At the mansion now," he said as he walked to the doors. He swung them open.   
  


"Coën, prepare a room for our guest. Lambert, keep an eye on him," he said and left to meet Eskel.

* * *

Coën bowed and left. Lambert walked into the office, his hand on his gun.  
  


"Run and I'll shoot. It's that easy. Just sit tight, the boss will handle this," he said. Jaskier nodded, still holding his hands up.  
  


"Put them down, you idiot." Lambert sat on the desk. The trembling hands finally lowered to Jaskier's lap.   
  


"S-so now what?" he asked.   
  


"Now the boss will check your story. If you are right you will live. If you lie you will die. And until he knows, you stay. Understood?" Jaskier nodded.  
  


"Yes sir... Did— Did you hear what I told him?" he asked.  
  


"No. But I can guess it was something important, judging by the boss’s reaction. I hope you're wrong, I'm itching for an easy kill," Lambert said with a grin.   
  


"Easy? An easy kill?! I am not an easy kill and I didn't lie, so you can shove it!" Jaskier said, offended. Lambert was surprised, the guy had guts. He took him in again. Brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes.  
  


"Aren't ya Jaskier? The guy from the graveyard?" he asked.  
  


"I am," Jaskier replied. "What about it? Who are you? Didn’t I see you there too?"   
  


"The name's Lambert. Pleasure." He crossed his arms. "I've been wondering. What's so special about you? Why did Ciri like you immediately? And your eyes aren't that bright..." Lambert leaned down to look at them. Eskel was wrong, he wasn't that cute.  
  


"Wha- what are you talking about my eyes?" Jaskier was so confused, nothing made sense anymore. Coën knocked on the open door.   
  


"Lambert, mister Jaskier. The room is ready. Follow me," he said and turned and left. Jaskier looked at Lambert, who groaned and pulled him up.   
  


"Walk, you idiot. Follow him."   
  


"Alright alright, rude!" Jaskier said and followed Coën, Lambert close behind him.

* * *

The room was bigger than his apartment. There was a small living room with a TV, a bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, and a small kitchen. Jaskier walked inside.   
  


"This is bigger than where I live. Nice. So for how long do I stay?" he asked.  
  


"My guess is Tuesday. Maybe longer, maybe forever. Who knows, the boss might forget you," Lambert said with a mean grin. Coën’s eyes twitched, but his face kept in check.   
  


"The kitchen and bathroom are stocked, there are clothes in the closet. Is there anything you need from your house, you might be here a while." Coën asked.  
  


"My guitar," Jaskier answered without thinking.  
  


"That's it? Just some stupid instru— ugh!" Lambert doubled over when Coën elbowed him hard in the stomach.   
  


"If you could write down your address, I will have it delivered." Coën gave him a note block and a pen. Jaskier quickly wrote down his address.  
  


"If you need anything, please press this button. But do not overuse it, I am not your servant. You are our captive, keep that in mind. Your guitar will be here shortly," Coën said. He shoved Lambert out of the room and locked the door behind him. Jaskier sat down on the couch.  
  


"How do I always end up like this?"

* * *

Geralt and Eskel went through everything they could find, but no one knew of this assassination attempt.  
  


"Maybe he misheard, boss. Maybe there is no plan," Eskel said. Geralt let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.  
  


"No. I don't think he did. The Russo’s are set on her life, it doesn’t feel out of place. Let's wait for Tuesday. I want Lambert and Ciri in the mansion, send someone else out in a car. Find a child to— to..." Geralt couldn't finish his sentence. Using another child as bait would be wrong, Jaskier still would have blood on his hands. "Use a car with tinted windows, find someone disposable to drive. Give him scars so he resembles Lambert. Put a mannequin or something in the back. I don't care, make the decoy look authentic, whatever it takes."   
  


"I'm on it boss," Eskel said and left to arrange the weirdest request yet. Geralt collapsed in a chair. He had to destroy the Russo's before they took Ciri. He needed help with this. He grabbed his phone and went to a contact he had hoped he would never have to call. Dandelion.  
  


"Geralt! It's been a while," a flamboyant voice said on the other side of the phone.  
  


"It has been my friend," Geralt said.  
  


"So how can I help you?"  
  


"I need the Russo's eliminated. All of them. Can you help me?"  
  


"All of them? Are you nuts?!" Dandelion sounded confused.  
  


"They want to kill my daughter. I need them dead Dandelion. I'll give you anything, please," Geralt begged. He never wanted to result to this, but a direct assassination attempt was a call to war and war meant an army. Dandelion was a master manipulator and assassin turned civilian, only a few knew about his past. But the work he did was grand, he infiltrated governments and other families alike, slaughtered his target, and was gone before anyone could suspect him. His help could turn the tides before the war even started.   
  


"Anything you say? I'll get back to that. Who needs a visit of my grace, Geralt?" Dandelion asked.  
  


"Don Russo himself and everyone around him. The more chaos, the better," Geralt answered.   
  


"Alright, duly noted. I don’t think it’s possible to reach Don Russo, but I can lower their numbers. I'll get to work immediately. So a daughter you say? How old—"  
  


"No. She is out of the question. I am not taking out a family to hand her to you. Don't try your luck Dandelion," Geralt growled. Dandelion laughed.  
  


"Alright, sorry my friend. I just didn't know you had a daughter. I'll drop by once I'm done, I do want to meet her."  
  


"Just get it done quick."  
  


"Of course Geralt. See you soon~" and Dandelion hung up. Geralt sighed wearily, he couldn't believe he called his old friend. But for Ciri, he would burn down everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cucciola = Cub  
> Luce = Light
> 
> Yes Jaskier and Dandelion are two different characters. I see Game Dandelion and Netflix Jaskier as two completely different characters, so they are based on that.


	5. Take the shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wait to Tuesday is long. Tension runs high, will their plan succeed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Mention of violence, mention of death

Jaskier wanted to explore the mansion he was trapped in, but sadly he wasn’t allowed to leave his room. So he spent his time sleeping, playing guitar, relaxing in the jacuzzi, and eating. There wasn't much else to do. He didn't dare to ring the bell to call Coën, even when he needed something, but he was fine. He wished he could at least contract Triss, or her girlfriend Yen, just for a chat, but without a phone or laptop that was impossible. But even so, he enjoyed his prison. After what he had been through, these few days of luxury were deserved, at least so he believed. He didn’t mind spending his last days like this, he could finally relax and not worry about anything for once.  


He was in the jacuzzi when someone knocked on the door. Usually, that was Coën, for cleaning or food or if he was lucky, a conversation.  
  


"Come in," Jaskier said, not bothering to get out of the jacuzzi, Coën had seen worse. The door opened, heavy footsteps echoed through the room. That was not Coën. Jaskier froze and turned his head. All the doors were open, he didn't bother closing them, so he came eye to eye with Geralt Rivia himself. Jaskier blushed bright red, Geralt stared with an open mouth.  
  


"Uh... hi? I wasn't expecting guests," Jaskier said and waved at Geralt. Geralt sighed deeply.  
  


"Get dressed, we need to talk."  
  


"Yeah... uh— could you— turn around?" Jaskier asked. Geralt did so and Jaskier climbed out of the jacuzzi and quickly shut the bathroom door.   
  


"That went smooth," he muttered to himself.

  
  


Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This man was indeed something. He shook his head to get the image of a wet Jaskier out of his head. To distract himself he took a look around the room. It was quite a mess, it explained why Coën was here daily. An open notebook lay on the table. He was tempted to take a look, as he wanted to know everything in his mansion, but even with Jaskier still in the bathroom, he decided he wouldn’t invade the man’s privacy even more. He took a walk through the small room, pacing until Jaskier finally came out, dressed in jeans and a shirt with the top 2 buttons undone. Jaskier offered him a smile. Geralt took in the man in front of him. That smile still reminded Geralt of the sunshine, so bright and radiant. He was surprised by his own mind, thinking that Jaskier, who was still a prisoner, was beautiful. Geralt looked away at his watch, to collect himself and then at Jaskier again.  
  


“We need to talk,” Geralt said again. Jaskier laughed anxiously.  
  


“It’s never a good sign if someone says that. But take a seat.” He gestured at the couch and chair. Geralt took the chair and watched as Jaskier flopped down like it was his own house. He made it his home quickly, he had only been here two days.  
  


“Are you lying to me?” Geralt asked. Jaskier shot up.  
  


“No! I told you what I heard and I told you everything!” he said.  
  


“I have checked everything and I can’t find any proof of your statement. As far as I know, you are lying.”

Jaskier couldn’t believe it. He was risking his life and was now accused of being a liar.  
  


“Yeah well... What do you want me to say? Sorry for trying to save a child? Sorry for wasting your time? I heard what I heard and you are the only Geralt and Ciri I know. I’m just trying to help. And it’s not even Tuesday yet, maybe they are smarter than you think. I don’t even know who you are or who you work for, let alone who they are or what they want! Gods, you try to be a decent person and you get treated like this..” Jaskier was ranting. Geralt waited patiently for him to be done before he spoke himself.  
  


“Alright. Let’s wait for Tuesday. If you lied, I will be decent and grant you a quick death for wasting my time," Geralt said.  
  


“And if I’m right? Do I get a favor? You’re rich enough to do pretty much everything,” Jaskier asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Geralt gave this a thought. What was the worst this guy could do?  
  


“Alright. Do we have a deal?” Geralt asked and held out his hand. Jaskier stared at the hand. He gave something thought for the first time in his life. He was risking his life for a favor. But he knew he was right, he felt that he was right. So again, he threw caution into the wind and shook Geralt’s hand.  
  


"Deal,” Jaskier said and eyed Geralt up and down. “So... Now that we're done talking business... Who are you exactly?" he asked. Now it was Geralt’s turn to stare, flabbergasted.  
  


"You don't know who I am?"   
  


"Nope," Jaskier said, still smiling.  
  


"You made a deal with me and you have no idea who I am," Geralt said again. Jaskier felt anxiety coming up.  
  


"Uh well... Not really?" he said, his smile now more awkward.  
  


"I have never met someone as stupid as you. How? Just— How?!" Geralt was speechless, this was something new.  
  


"All I know is that your name is Geralt and that you're fucking loaded. And you're also hot. I mean —not, uhm, alone in here? And you're hot. I mean, hot on security. Are you secret royalty?" Geralt watched as Jaskier was stumbling over his words. It was amusing for sure. Geralt raised his hand and Jaskier shut his mouth instantly.   
  


"I get it. Thanks," Geralt said amused. Jaskier blushed and nodded.  
  


"You guessed mostly right, my name is Geralt, I am loaded and I don't live alone here. I am not royalty, you got that wrong," Geralt explained.  
  


"Then what are you?" Jaskier asked, the suspense was killing him. Geralt smirked.  
  


"Let's just say I'm dangerous. That's all you need to know." He winked at Jaskier and stood up. He walked to the door, his stride proud. Jaskier felt his heart nearly explode, his face was red.   
  


"Ah— Y-yeah... Sure..." he managed to get out. Geralt opened the door and looked back at Jaskier, who looked like he was having a heart attack.   
  


"I'll see you again Tuesday. I hope for your sake that you're right." Geralt didn't wait for a response, he closed the door behind him and locked it. Jaskier listened until the footsteps were gone. He fell down on the couch and pressed his face into a pillow.   
  


"Don't fall in love with him you fucking idiot!" he whined into the pillow.

* * *

Geralt entered his office again, only to find Lambert sitting in his chair, his feet on the desk.  


"So boss, how did the interrogation go? Did the idiot talk?" Lambert asked, without a care in the world.  
  


"Get out," Geralt growled. Lambert just smirked.  
  


"Not until I have an answer," he said cocky. Who had been stroking Lambert's ego was a mystery to Geralt, but he would bring him down a peg. He made his way over to Lambert and grabbed him by his scruff.   
  


"Hey! Let go!" Lambert tried to pull away, but Geralt didn't give him a chance. He pulled Lambert out of the chair and pressed him face-first into his desk. Geralt's raw strength exceeded Lambert's by miles and he was easily pinned with one hand on his neck.  
  


"What is the one rule I have for you?" Geralt asked. Lambert scoffed but didn't answer. Geralt put more pressure on him.  
  


"Agh! Don't— Don't sit in the chair..." Lambert muttered.  
  


"And what did you do?"  
  


"I sat in the chair." Lambert struggled again, but he couldn't move. Geralt applied a little more pressure, just enough that Lambert had trouble breathing. He tried to pull free again.  
  


"You know what I want to hear," Geralt said. Lambert growled but refused to talk. "I can call Eskel in. Show him how fucking pathetic you are," Geralt said.   
  


"No! Fuck, sorry boss. I won't do it again. Now let me fucking go!" Lambert said, hitting the desk with his fist. Geralt held him down for a few more seconds because he could, then he let him go. Lambert rubbed his neck. Geralt grabbed Lambert by the front of his collar and pulled him up to eye height.   
  


"I don't know why you act like this, but you better drop it. You can play alpha male with Eskel all you want, but not around me. Got that?" Geralt growled, his tone low and dangerous. Lambert whined.  
  


"Y-yes boss!" Geralt let him go and sat down. Lambert gracefully stepped backwards, out of Geralt's reach. Just in case.  
  


"To answer your question, it went well. He really is a harmless idiot."  
  


"What's the plan?"  
  


"He will live for now. Until he's proven wrong," Geralt said. "But I have a feeling he's right. I already took safety precautions, Ciri should be fi— … Lambert?"  
  


"Yes, boss?"  
  


"Weren't you supposed to watch her?" Geralt turned to look at Lambert.  
  


"W-was I?" Lambert took another step back.   
  


"You have 5 seconds to find her or I will strangle you!" Geralt roared and Lambert ran out immediately.

* * *

Ciri was in the kitchen with Coën, since Lambert was too busy playing boss. They were baking cookies. Or Ciri was playing with dough and Coën was baking cookies. Lambert ran into the kitchen, completely out of breath.  
  


"Lambi? Are you alright?" Ciri asked. Lambert leaned against the doorframe to catch his breath.  
  


"Yeah.. one second Luce.." he took a few deep breaths. "Geralt is looking for you."   
  


"But I'm baking! Can't Geralt come here?" Ciri pouted.  
  


"That's not how it works, Ciri. Just go, I'll finish up the cookies," Coën said sweetly and took the apron off Ciri. Lambert mouthed a thank you to Coën and picked up Ciri and rushed back to Geralt. Ciri frowned, holding him tight. 

  
  


Geralt was smirking, today is going well. Jaskier was harmless and stupidly cute— just stupid, Lambert knew his place. If he ignored the feeling of dread of the assassination attempt, today might even be great. He leaned back as he heard Lambert run back. He finally had time for Ciri too, today would be good for once. Geralt was surprised to see Ciri so grumpy.   
  


"Cucciola, what's going on?"  
  


"I was baking cookies, why am I here?!" She said, sounding like a spoiled brat.  
  


"What?" Geralt wasn't used to people speaking to him like that.  
  


"I don't want to play! I want to bake cookies! Put me down!!" She struggled until Lambert put her down. She was trying to flee to the kitchen.  
  


"Hey! Stop!" Geralt said and stood up. "Come here." He was angry, not that much, but enough to get Ciri to walk to the desk, her tiny arms still crossed.  
  


"I don't want to play with you!" She whined. Geralt was hurt by that comment, but let it go.  
  


"Why not? I made time just for you."   
  


"Only for 5 minutes until you get a call! I don't want to play," Ciri said and stomped back to the kitchen.   
  


"Ciri Rivia come back here!" Geralt tried, but Ciri ignored him.  
  


"What the fuck? She's always begging for my attention and now she has it and I'm not good enough?!" Geralt grumbled and sat down again. "Why did I adopt a child again..."

* * *

The days went by, but peace didn't return to the mansion. Geralt was on edge and in a sour mood, and that spread to everyone. Ciri was under the constant supervision of Coën, much to her, and his, annoyance. Lambert and Eskel had to patrol twice as much and security was doubled. Everyone was annoyed and morale suffered. But a few times a day, calm spread whenever Jaskier was playing guitar. The soft tunes and calming songs he played for himself had an effect on everyone surrounding his room. Even Geralt felt himself doze off when Jaskier played right after dinner. 

Most days Geralt found Ciri near Jaskier's room, drawing or reading while listening to the music. Some days Geralt joined her, both spread out on the floor surrounded by toys and papers, just listening. While the stress and fear of the threat were still in the back of his mind, Jaskier's music and beautiful voice helped him calm down enough to spend quality time with his daughter.   
  


"Geralt?"  
  


"Yes Ciri?"  
  


"Can Jaskier stay? He makes nice music."  
  


"Hmm." Geralt was silent for a moment. "How do you know his name?"  
  


"Coën told me."  
  


"Of course he did."  
  


"Can he stay? Please Geralt?"  
  


"No."  
  


"Pretty please?" Ciri looked at Geralt with big eyes and a pout. Geralt felt his defense crumble under her stare. He gave up with a sigh, he couldn’t resist those eyes.  
  


"I'll think about it," he said, defeated.   
  


"I really hope he can stay," Ciri muttered as she closed her eyes. Geralt closed his eyes as well. He was a bit infatuated with Jaskier, his kind eyes, happy smile, and beautiful voice. Maybe Jaskier could stay if he was right. Just maybe.

* * *

Tuesday came and Jaskier sat on his bed. He hid his face in his pillow, his back against the headboard. He was shaking, fear came over him. While he wasn't religious he still prayed to the gods that Ciri may live today.   
  


"Please. Please let me be right. Fuck why did I do this to myself..." he said into the pillow. His shoulders were shaking, he was trying so hard not to cry, but tears still escaped him. Nobody told him anything, he was completely in the dark if Ciri was safe or not.   
  


"You better keep her safe Geralt... I don't want to risk my life for nothing."  
  


Jaskier stood up, crying into a pillow wouldn't solve anything. He grabbed his guitar and started plucking, it was a sad song he once wrote for his band before they kicked him out. The sad tunes floated throughout the room, his voice joining in shortly. 

  
  


Geralt sat in his office, Lambert stood beside him. On his laptop was the video of the car, they had a camera in it. The car with a newbie was driving Lambert's usual ride. Geralt cursed that he fell into the trap of a routine. He should've known better. Deep inside he felt sorry for the kid, but that was the life he lived. His hands were laced together, his knuckles white from the force he used. Lambert had his hands in his pockets in tight fists, his shoulders tense.  They had been watching for an hour and nothing had happened yet.   
  


"Boss what if he was wrong? It's been forever," Lambert said.  
  


"Quiet," Geralt snarled, he had to concentrate.  
  


The car was in the middle of the city, in the busy city center. It was sandwiched between two trucks as it waited for a red light. Geralt was on edge, something had to happen soon. The driver was yelling, there was a flash of fire and smoke, the driver tried to get away, and then the connection was lost. They stared at the black screen for a moment. Geralt immediately checked for any news, when he got a call.  
  


“Boss! It happened! The car was shot, the engine exploded. The entire intersection is on fire!” Geralt listened and fell back in his chair. This wasn’t what he expected, this was extreme. This way there was no identifying of bodies.. and no bodies to bury. Geralt slammed the phone against the wall, he was furious. A war had begun.

  
  


Lambert stared at the black screen, his breaths trembled. He had faced death many times, not just others but also his own came close a few times, but this one hit him harder than usual. He had driven that route many times with Ciri in the back, he couldn't bear to think that she was… not another…  
  


"B-boss, may I — " Lambert tried to find his voice. Geralt gave a short nod and Lambert bolted out of the office, through the mansion. He burst into Ciri's room where she was reading a book with Eskel.   
  


"Lambert? Is everything alright?" Eskel asked and closed the book. Lambert just shook his head, crossed the room and pulled Ciri into his arms.   
  


"Luce, You're safe..." he whispered. Ciri was squished in Lambert’s hug. She was about to complain when he sniffled.  
  


“Lambi? Are you crying?” she asked and wrapped her arms around him as far as she could. “Don’t cry, it's okay..” she said as he had said many times to her. Lambert chuckled.  
  


“I am Luce. It’s okay now,” he said.  
  


Eskel watched Lambert with Ciri in his arms with a smile. Lambert rarely showed himself this vulnerable, it was precious to see.  
  


“So they did it?” he asked.  
  


“Yeah… They did. He was right,” Lambert said. He leaned back a bit to look at Ciri. She gave him a big happy smile and he smiled too. She clumsily wiped the tears from his face.  
  


“Let me bring you to Geralt. I think he wants to see you too,” Lambert said and stood up.  
  


“Why? What happened?” she asked.  
  


“Something bad. Just be nice to him okay?” Ciri nodded. But even after saying that, Lambert refused to move. He kept Ciri in his arms.   
  


"Lambi? What about Geralt?" Ciri asked.  
  


"He can wait a little longer," he said, pulling her close again.

* * *

Geralt was fighting to keep his emotions in check. Ciri was here and safe. Dandelion was working on the inner circle. The way they took out the car meant they didn’t know and couldn’t check that Ciri wasn't actually in the car. But even so, he was close to his breaking point. The lack of sleep wasn't helping either. And many sleepless nights would follow if an actual war would break out. Not that Geralt wanted that, it would mean bigger police forces than the one he controlled in the town. There had to be a different way.

Geralt was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice one of the big doors opened and closed. He didn't hear the tiny footsteps walking to the desk.   
  


"Geralt?" He looked down as someone pulled his jacket. Ciri stood next to his chair, with two lollipops in her hands. "Are you okay?" she asked. That question brought Geralt right back to breaking point. What did he do to deserve her in his life? He picked her up and sat her down on his desk. She held out one of the lollipops to him. He took it from her and pressed a kiss on her forehead.  
  


"Thank you Cucciola." Ciri smiled.  
  


"Lambi was crying. What happened?" she asked.   
  


"There are a lot of bad guys outside and they are doing very bad things. They hurt Lambert and they are trying to hurt you," Geralt explained. "I will do everything to stop them. I won't let them hurt you."  
  


Ciri nodded, no trace of fear or worry on her face. Geralt figured she'd be a little scared since Lambert was already in tears, but there was none.   
  


"They won't get close to me, I got my big strong Geralt to protect me!" She exclaimed with a big smile. "And I won't let them hurt you! I'll protect you too!" While Geralt had heard that before, it was never said to him like this. By someone who unconditionally loved him, whom he scared to death when he was angry and still came back to him. Who saw him tired and bloody and still wanted a hug. Even though she was a child, Geralt could feel love and trust radiate off of her. He picked her up in a bone-crushing hug, he reached a breaking point. Ciri wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she could.   
  


"I love you Geralt," she whispered as if she told him her most precious secret. A single tear escaped his eyes, it was more than he had ever cried since he became Don.    
  


"I love you my Cucciola. You'll be safe with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luce = Light  
> Cucciola = Cub


	6. A favor granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier was right after all and chose his favor, taking out his “rival”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Blood, Torture, Murder, honestly it’s one of the most graphic chapter of the story be warned.

Jaskier was pacing through his room, if he went on like this it would be the suspense that did him in. It was getting close to night time and he was done. He had cried, he pleaded with gods that don't exist, he bathed twice and played sad songs. Now he wanted to know what was actually going on. The door was still locked, so going out and confronting Geralt himself wasn't an option. Not that he could without mentally falling apart, that man had to be a god, he was inhumanly beautiful.

He was writing a new song when someone knocked on the door. So polite, he thought.   
  


"Come in," he said. The door opened and it was Lambert who walked in. "Hi Lambert. I was hoping for your boss to show up, but you can break me the news too," Jaskier said.  
  


"You can ask him yourself. I'm here to pick you up," Lambert said. Jaskier narrowed his eyes, Lambert was too nice. He closed his notebook and picked it up. He ran his hand over his guitar as he walked to the door. Fear hit him hard, his hands were sweaty and shaking. He followed Lambert to the office, but he was the only one to enter. He pressed his notebook against his chest as he walked to the desk. The room was a lot darker this time and Jaskier feared the worst.  
  


"Jaskier. Take a seat," Geralt said. Jaskier slowly walked to the chairs in front of the desk and sat down. The gun was on the desk again, he knew it was over. He couldn't look Geralt in the eye, he just hoped Geralt kept his word and was merciful.  
  
  


Geralt had to hide his smirk, Jaskier was terrified. He didn't actually mean to scare him this much, but he decided to enjoy this as much as possible.   
  


"So.. Jaskier. Things happened today... But not in the way I expected them to. So I have to say that I'm sorry." Jaskier sighed and hung his head low, what else did he expect if he was honest.  
  


"I guess I was wrong. Sorry for wasting your time..." he said as he accepted his fate. He was mentally preparing for his death until Geralt chuckled. Jaskier's head shot up and he looked the smirking man in the face.   
  


"What's so funny?" He asked skeptically.   
  


"I won't have to kill you. You were right. Thank you for your warning. I would've lost everything if you didn't come." Jaskier couldn't believe it.  
  


"I.. what? I-I was right?" A tidal wave of relief crushed over him and he started to cry. He covered his face, trying to get a grip, but everything was too much. "Oh my god... I-is she..."  Geralt wasn't exactly sure how to handle this.   
  


"She's fine, it's alright," Geralt handed him a tissue, which Jaskier gratefully took.  
  


"S-sorry I'm just... overwhelmed, I really thought it was over for me. For real this time. And Ciri is alright too." Jaskier wiped his face and blew his nose. "Good thing I always stick my nose everywhere it doesn't belong," he said with a radiant smile on his face.  
  


"Do I dare ask how much trouble that got you?"   
  


"I've seen the ER more times than I would like to admit..." Jaskier confessed. Geralt resisted the urge to sigh. This man…  
  


"Let me keep my end of the deal. You asked for a favor. What do you want? Everything is on the table," he said. Jaskier nodded and opened his notebook.  
  


"I had a few things in mind, but I do think I know what I want," Jaskier said a smirk.   
  


"Is it sex with me?" Geralt asked bluntly. He wouldn't be the first, many wanted that. But Jaskier looked offended instead.  
  


"No, it's not. Thank you very much. You're hot, but I don't do rape."   
  


"Hmm." Geralt was relieved, yet strangely disappointed.  
  


"No. I have something else," Jaskier said and put a picture on the desk. "I want you to kill him." That was a sentence Geralt did not see coming. He thought of money, a bigger house, anything but this.   
  


"Why?"   
  


"He is actively ruining my life and I am done." Geralt was intrigued by this. There was more to Jaskier than a bumbling idiot.  
  


"Tell me everything," he said.   
  


"This is Valdo Marx. He claims to be my rival, but he's acting like my enemy. He got me kicked out of school and my own band, he is actively trying to ruin my music career and life. I am unable to earn a decent living because of him and I am done. I nearly did it twice myself..." Jaskier trailed off.  
  


"But?"  


"Too many people, what's the point of murder if you can't get away with it?" Wasn't that an incredibly hot sentence to hear. Geralt ignored the heat in his body.  
  


"You can do it yourself. I can let someone bring him here. No one will know, no one will ever find him," Geralt said. Jaskier's eyes lit up.  
  


"Can I... Torture him?" he dared to ask.   
  


"You can. He will be all yours."   
  


"I'm on board. How long does it take?"

  
"If you have his address, two hours." This would be an easy job. Jaskier picked up a pen and quickly wrote down the address.  
  


"Don't ask why I know this, I just want him gone." The way Jaskier said this was more sadistic than Geralt thought he could sound.  


"Consider it done. I'll have someone pick you up once I have him. You do have to stay here for a while. Just to be safe." Now that the threat of death wasn't looming over him, Jaskier found his confidence again. He leaned forward on his elbows on the desk, his head resting on his hands, still smirking.  
  


"Will you be joining me?" he asked and winked. Geralt's eyes flickered down the gun and Jaskier's followed.   
  


"Yeah okay I get it... sorry," he said and leaned back with a little pout. Geralt stood up.  
  


“Besides I won’t be joining you,” he said as he walked around his desk, “as we would be using my room for that.” With a smirk he held out his hand to a blushing Jaskier. With a gulp, Jaskier took his hand, his face burning hot, and stood up. Their eyes were locked and neither of them looked away nor did they let go of each other’s hand. “While I enjoy your company, you should go back to your room. I believe I have someone to kidnap," Geralt said, his face back to his usual stern look and he pulled his hand back. Jaskier tried his luck, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Geralt's cheek.   
  


"I'll be waiting for your call," he said with a flirty wink. Geralt's serious face faltered for a split second.   
  


"Leave."   
  


"Yes yes Geralt, I'm already leaving," Jaskier said with a laugh. There was a bounce in his step Geralt had seen the first time they met. It looked like Jaskier was his presumed normal self. 

  
  


Jaskier opened the door and walked passed Lambert.  
  


"No need for an escort, I know my way around," he said and waved his hand. Lambert looked at Geralt, who ordered him to follow with a simple gesture.   
  


"Sorry kid, you need one," he said and followed.   
  


"Well any kind of company is welcome tonight," Jaskier said and grabbed Lambert's arm. "Lead the way escort." Lambert groaned, what was up with this guy?   
  


The walk to Jaskier's room was filled with chatter, only from Jaskier's side. Lambert couldn't wait to ditch him, he already hated him.  
  


"Sorry, the door will be locked, just in case." Lambert shoved Jaskier into the room and locked the door. He quickly left before he would have to hear another word.  
  


"Rude! Hey wait.. my notebook!! Hey come back! I left my notebook at the desk!!" Jaskier yelled, but there was no response.

* * *

Geralt noticed the open notebook on his desk. It was Jaskier's. He knew it was wrong to look inside it, but Jaskier intrigued him. He couldn't stop himself, he pulled the notebook to him and looked at the open page. One page wouldn't hurt. It was scribbled with bad drawings of someone, presumably Valdo Marx, being murdered in numerous ways. Jaskier must really hate this man. Geralt flipped a page, it was filled with text, a love song for a woman, but the text was crossed out with a big red X. A love that didn't work out. Geralt flipped through the notebook, not stopping at the one page. 

The pages were filled with songs, poetry, and diary entries. Jaskier's past wasn't all roses and sunshine. He was indeed kicked out of the band he created himself, by lies of Valdo Marx. He lost most of his friends over the years and had even lived on the streets for a time. But Jaskier was also made of rubber, he always bounced back up after every bad day. Geralt could admire that. Then he reached a more recent page. The song wasn't finished yet, but it was another love song. It spoke of a love that won't be returned, a longing for a touch one would never get. Geralt hoped that it wasn't about him. Not that he would ever date Jaskier, it would be too dangerous for him. Even though Jaskier dragged himself into the criminal life. Geralt flipped one more page and found another half-finished song. This must have been written today, it was about dread, the fear of death, and the feeling of hopelessness. The song was deep and hit him where it hurts, Geralt did not expect such depth from the bubbly man he had in his chair a moment ago. He closed the notebook, enough peeking. This Jaskier was more than the idiot he showed the world.

* * *

Finding Valdo Marx was easy, the man was home in his expensive apartment and unarmed. Eskel wondered why this guy, he was just an annoyance in the underworld, but you don't question orders. He took Valdo to the mansion with ease and tied him up on a chair in a separate building. He must have done something bad if the boss personally.

* * *

Geralt was about to knock on Jaskier's door when he heard his voice. Jaskier singing a beautiful song, Geralt recognized the lyrics of the crossed-out love song. He took a moment to listen and closed his eyes. Calm went over him, his voice always still seemed to help him relax. After a moment he knocked on the door, business was waiting.  
  


"Come in," Jaskier said and Geralt unlocked and opened the door.   
  


"Geralt, hey," Jaskier said, his radiant smile ever-present on his face.   
  


"You left your notebook on my desk," Geralt said and put it down on the table. "And we have him. He's waiting for you." Jaskier shot up immediately and put his guitar down.  
  


"Shall we Geralt?"

* * *

Valdo woke up. It was dark around him. His whole body hurt, his head was throbbing. He tried to run a hand over his head, but he couldn't move his hands.  
  


"What? Shit shit shit!" He pulled his arms, but they wouldn't budge. His feet wouldn't move either. It took him a second to realize. He had been kidnapped. He remembered someone at his door, he had scars in his face, and then everything went black. He struggled against the ropes, but they wouldn't budge.   
  


"HELP!! SOMEONE!!"

* * *

Jaskier followed Geralt outside. He was strangely giddy. Valdo had been ruining him and finally, he could do something about it. Deep inside it felt wrong, but he ignored that feeling. This was Valdo Marx, not someone innocent.

Geralt noticed the bounce in Jaskier's step. He wondered what he was planning and if he would actually go through with any form of torture, usually people can't actually do it. They reached a small building. Geralt opened the door and gestured for Jaskier to walk inside. Geralt led through a few corridors to a dark room. As soon as he opened the door, the lights turned on. In the middle of the room was Valdo Marx, tied to a chair. He looked like he had been crying and Jaskier felt himself grin.   
  


"J-Jaskier?! Get out of here!!" Valdo screamed when he saw Geralt appear behind Jaskier. Jaskier laughed, a maniacal laugh that gave even Geralt shivers. Jaskier walked forward and grabbed Valdo by his hair.  
  


"Look at you, finally at my mercy. Finally, I can live without your bullshit holding me back." Valdo's eyes grew.  
  


"This... This was you?! What the fuck?! What did I do to you?!" Valdo screamed, he was terrified.   
  


"You did everything darling. Now I will return the favor, as real rivals do right?" 

  
  


Geralt watched as Jaskier was scaring the shit out of Valdo. He had not expected this and he had to admit, it was sort of sexy. The way Jaskier moved and talked, calculated to bring as much terror as he could. Geralt wondered what he had in mind. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He had a perfect view of whatever Jaskier would do.  
  


Jaskier moved to sit on Valdo's lap, his hands gently caressing his face. Valdo was still terrified, while his touch was gentle, the sadistic look on his face was not.  
  


"I have been thinking about his moment, dear Valdo. I always wondered what I would do to you," he said. Valdo tried to move his head back.  
  


"Y-you did?"  
  


"So many times. Sometimes I wanted to hold you down in a bathtub to watch you struggle and drown. Some days I wanted to stab you until you stopped moving. Some days I just wanted to poison you and read in the paper that you had died."Jaskier pressed his nails in Valdo's face. "But today? Today I will make it personal. I will make you scream until there's no voice left inside your throat as revenge for stealing my songs. I will leave marks on your body as revenge for stealing my lovers. I will ruin your pretty face so you can't steal my contracts. I might even cut out your tongue for lying to my band."  
  


Valdo hissed in pain, Jaskier's nails drew blood.  
  


"P-Please, I'll do anything! Please let me go!" he begged. Jaskier laughed again.  
  


"Geralt darling, have I ever told you what this.. this hack did to me?" Jaskier asked.  
  


"You said a few things, but never the full story," Geralt said.  
  


"Then allow me." Valdo shivered, he knew he was fucked. "First at the academy. I was top of my class, I had potential. But then he came along, spreading rumors I was stealing songs while he stole mine, that I paid people to write, that I was a talentless hack. I was kicked out, their case based on false evidence. I couldn’t fight it back then, I lost a lot of money and friends,” Jaskier dragged his nails down, Valdo groaned in pain, but stayed silent.  
  


"But that didn’t stop me, I continued to play and I was asked by a record label to work for them. But again, a certain mister Marx told them of the case against me and I was fired. This happened for 3 other companies. I had to beg to get by,” Jaskier growled. Geralt was beginning to understand why Jaskier wanted him dead.  
  


“But the worst. The worst was how he stole Priscilla from me. She believed me. She was on my side. But he came in with new lies, new stories. He told her how I cheated, how I lied. I was the bad guy and I would only hurt her. This went on for over a year until she left me. I wanted to marry her, but no, I am not allowed to be happy.” The last words were pushed through his teeth, his nails digging deeper into Valdo’s skin. One hand moved back to Valdo’s hair and he pulled hard. Jaskier watched him swallow, how he shivered in fear. Tears of fear were flowing from Valdo’s eyes.   
  


“When she broke up with me, my own band kicked me out too. It was my fault and they would go on without me, they heard that I don’t write my own songs. I wonder who told them that!” He pulled his hair harder. “He fucked me over for over a decade. But today it ends!”  
  


“Gah! I didn’t mean... I just… She said you would never... Please let me go!” Valdo begged again, he didn’t make up any excuses.  
  


“Evil motherfucker. The only let go you get is death when I’m done with you.” Jaskier stood up and punched him in the face. Valdo groaned.

  
  


Geralt understood the hatred, the anger. Everyone had a breaking point and Jaskier was pushed far past his. This could only be a glorious show. He was concered about what Valdo said. Who was this she?  
  


“I see. He’s all yours now. Do whatever you please Jaskier.” he gestured at the table in the room. It was filled with various things like knives, whips, chains, bats, and other things to fuck someone up. Jaskier stepped to the table and looked at everything.  
  


"I don't even know where to begin..." he said, his hands moved over the various knives. Geralt pushed off the wall and walked to him. He stood close behind Jaskier and took his hand. He guided him to a bat, dark red bloodstains were set in the light wood.   
  


"If I can make a suggestion.." Geralt whispered in Jaskier's ear. Jaskier shivered and grabbed the bat. Geralt put his other hand on Jaskier's waist. Jaskier leaned back and let his head fall against Geralt's shoulder. "Don't use too much force. Unless you want to beat him to death. But I know worse ways to let him die," Geralt said softly. Jaskier let out a purr.  
  


"I'll keep it in mind," he said softly and seductively. He pressed a kiss against Geralt's neck and moved away to Valdo. Jaskier raised the bat.  
  


“Be a dear Valdo and scream for me,” he said and brought it down hard on one of his knees. A satisfying crunch filled the room and Valdo screamed. He was breathing fast and more tears streamed down his face. Jaskier raised the bat again and destroyed the other knee too. Valdo was still screaming, pulling the ropes.  
  


“PLEASE STOP!” he begged. Jaskier raised the bat again.  
  


“I have always wanted to do this,” he said and hit Valdo hard against his mouth. His head flew to the side, blood pouring from this mouth. Valdo spits out a few teeth. Jaskier grabbed his cheeks roughly and forced his mouth open.  
  


“So beautiful..” he muttered at the destroyed mouth of Valdo. “I will make you even more beautiful.” He turned Valdo’s head from side to side.

  
  


Geralt moved his hand over the knives. He had a feel for what Jaskier meant and chose the correct knife for the job, a long but slim knife. He walked over to Jaskier and stood next to him. He held out the knife and Jaskier gratefully took it. Geralt took the bat from his other hand, his touch lingering on Jaskier’s fingers. Jaskier sat on Valdo’s lap again, not caring that his pants were soaking up blood. He moved the knife up to his face and pressed the point on Valdo’s eyebrow.  
  


“You will be so beautiful, dear.” Valdo spat at him.  
  


“You are sick! Fucking sick!! I was right to pull Priscilla away from you!” he bit to Jaskier. The smile on Jaskier’s face fell.  
  


“Sick you say? Who’s fault is that hmm?” Jaskier pressed the knife in his forehead, dragging it down his eye. Valdo screamed and tried to move his head away, but Geralt grabbed a fistful of hair and held him in place.  
  


“Don’t you dare move,” he growled.

Jaskier took his time to press the knife into the eye socket, the slim blade was perfect for this. He pulled the knife out slowly, Valdo was shaking and sobbing beneath him.  
  


“How does it feel, knowing what I went through for a decade? Does it hurt?” Jaskier dragged the knife down his face, making a cut from his eye all the way down his cheek. Blood was flowing down Jaskier’s hand and Geralt found himself staring at it. Heat was building up in his stomach and Jaskier was only adding to it. The blood splatters on his face, the calm sadistic smile he carried, the careful and skilled movements of the knife. This was not the same man he had in his office a few days ago. He knew he had a sick thing for gore, but this was reaching a whole new level. He wanted nothing but his hands on Jaskier’s skin. The bat slipped from his fingers as he stared, and clattered on the floor.

Jaskier pulled back to look at his work. He hummed softly.  
  


“Yes, that’s it. So beautiful,” he whispered and dragged the knife further down his neck and chest. The cut was oozing blood, it was pooling on the floor. Jaskier looked up at Geralt and saw the hunger in his face. He moved a bloody hand up Geralt’s face and put it on his cheek.  
  


“Come get what you need Geralt.” It was all the permission Geralt needed, he leaned down and pressed a hungry kiss on Jaskier’s mouth, pushing his tongue in. Jaskier leaned forward to stand up, neither of them cared about the man trapped between them, whimpering in pain but too scared to move. Geralt moved his hands to Jaskier’s hips and pulled back. Jaskier’s grin had widened, teetering the edge of insanity.   
  


Jaskier held the knife up and Geralt took it. They moved in unison, no words were needed. Jaskier stepped off Valdo’s lap and pulled him down by his hair, so Valdo was bending over. Geralt put the knife between his teeth and grabbed the top hemline of the shirt Valdo was wearing and ripped it in half. Jaskier bit his bottom lip and purred. Geralt was already a god, but showing off like this he was even more godlike. Jaskier dug his nails in Valdo’s head and licked his lips. He shared a look with Geralt and then Geralt went to work, drawing a pattern of lines and cuts down Valdo’s back. The man cried and begged, but he was ignored by both. It had been a long time since Geralt could take his time like this. Usually, he had to work fast.

Once Geralt was done they both stepped back to admire their work. Valdo sat up, but not completely straight. His back, chest, and face were bleeding, his breathing was erratic and harsh. Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled him close.  
  


“I didn’t think you were capable of this,” Geralt said. Jaskier laughed.  
  


“Do you really think I give away all my secrets? That is not my style Geralt,” Jaskier replied. His gaze was stuck on Valdo and his crying.  
  


“I think I want another round with that bat. I am not done yet.” Jaskier bent down and picked up the bat.  
  


“N-no.. please… I don’t… I can’t..” Valdo heaved.  
  


“You should have thought of that before you decided to ruin my life!” Jaskier raised the bat and hit him in the face again. Jaskier kept swinging, on his face, chest, shoulders, and stomach. He cursed at every hit. Geralt had to stop him before he beat Valdo to death.  
  


“Stop Jaskier. Don’t give him the release of death yet. Let him suffer,” Geralt said and gently grabbed his arm. Jaskier’s breath was heavy, he was almost snarling. He dropped the bat and let Geralt pull him close.  
  


“I hate him so much Geralt. Please hurt him for me..” he said and pressed another kiss against Geralt’s lips. Geralt eagerly kissed back, his arms wrapping around him. Jaskier took the lead and deepened the kiss, Geralt followed. He felt the control slipping, but how could he fight it with Jaskier looking like this?  
  


Geralt pulled away first, his forehead resting against Jaskier’s.  
  


“Leave him to me. I’ll let him die a painful death for hurting you.” Geralt wasn’t sure why he was acting like this. He was never this smitten with anyone before, but he knew one thing for sure. Jaskier was his and nobody would hurt him again.  
  


Jaskier smiled, this one was more of his radiant sunshine smile than the sadistic smile.  
  


"Thank you Geralt." He was exhausted. He closed his eyes and let Geralt hold him. "Thank you so much." A weight fell off of his shoulders. Maybe now, for once, he could live without having to look over his shoulder. Jaskier was certain this event would follow him till death, but it was a small sacrifice to make.  
  


Geralt kept his arms around Jaskier and held him close. He moved Jaskier's head to his shoulder and his eyes moved to Valdo. He was close to death but still conscious.  
  


"I know you can still talk. Why?" Geralt had to know. Valdo heaved, tried to find his voice.  
  


"Be — because... she paid — she said... because he... he is a — talentless hack..." Valdo managed to say. Geralt growled. He had heard Jaskier sing and it was beautiful. There was more, but he obviously didn’t want to say it, even after all of this. This man was done for, Geralt couldn't care why he did it.   
  


"Jaskier, let me call someone over. You should take a shower and rest. I'll take care of the rest." Jaskier moaned.  
  


"But I want to watch..." he muttered.  
  


"No, you don't," Geralt said and used his earpiece to call over Eskel. "You shouldn't take a life if you don't have to." Jaskier nodded, too tired to go against him.

  
  


Eskel arrived a few minutes later and stared at the scene in front of him. That Valdo guy looked more dead than alive and both the Boss and Jaskier were covered in blood.   
  


"What —? No, I am not going to ask," he said. "Follow me." Jaskier pressed one last kiss on Geralt's lips and followed Eskel to the mansion.

Geralt walked to the table again and picked a knife. A strong one, with a serrated blade.   
  


"I have been in the business for quite some time. I have seen a lot of things. Done a lot of things. But I have never ever met someone like you. That is not a fact to be proud of," Geralt said as he inspected the blade. He walked over to Valdo and put the blade under his chin, forcing him to look up. "Do you think Jaskier would appreciate it if I put your heart in a jar for him?"   
  


"What..? N-No! .. Well.. Pro.. bably..." Valdo said, delirious due to the blood loss.  
  


"I'm amazed you can still talk after this," Geralt said and lowered the blade to his chest. "This might sting a little." He pressed the blade in his chest and used the serrated side to cut it open. His other hand covered Valdo's mouth, so his screams were muffled. Having someone scream into your face was not fun. He cut slowly, so slowly. When the hole was big enough Geralt used both hands to push the ribs aside, breaking off a few in the process. Valdo's screams turned silent, the pain too much to bear. He was close to passing out, but Geralt didn't grant him that luxury. He slapped Valdo in the face, waking him up.  
  


"Stay awake. You will feel this." Valdo shot up and nodded. Geralt was pleased to see that Valdo was fighting to stay awake. He walked over to another door in the room and opened. Inside were many jars and other things. He picked the prettiest, with gold vines and flowers on it. He also grabbed some other supplies to preserve the heart. He put his all on the table and walked back to Valdo.  
  


Geralt held the wound in Valdo's chest open with one hand and grabbed the heart with his other. Geralt gave him one last grin and pulled the heart out. Arteries ruptured and Valdo let out one last scream before his head fell back.  


Geralt stepped back and cleaned up the heart, draining it off the blood and cleaned it. Then he filled up the jar with alcohol and gently lowered into the jar, making sure it stayed in the middle. He sealed the jar and looked at it. He wasn't sure if he would actually give this to Jaskier, but it looked nice nonetheless. Geralt left the jar on the table for now, he would deal with that tomorrow. He could use a shower himself. And a new suit, this one was ruined.  


* * *

In the end, Eskel had to carry Jaskier to his room. He was exhausted and emotionally drained. Eskel wasn't happy about this, his clothing was now covered in blood. He managed to get Jaskier into his room and into the bathroom. He carefully lowered him to the floor.  
  


"Jaskier? Can you handle yourself from here?" Eskel asked. Jaskier managed to sit up.  
  


"I think so... Thank you.." he said, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.  
  


"You should shower before you fall asleep. Are you sure you don't need help?" Eskel asked again. Jaskier nodded and unbuttoned his shirt.  
  


"I'll be out here in case you need me." Eskel turned on the shower and left the bathroom. He leaned against the wall, he didn't trust Jaskier in this state.

Jaskier managed to get himself undressed and in the shower. He felt gross and sticky was glad to wash all the blood away. His mind was running, thinking about today and tonight and then Jaskier crashed. He couldn't keep himself standing anymore, it was too much to handle. He fainted, luckily the shower was big and he didn't hit his head.

Eskel heard him fall and walked into the bathroom with dread. He knew this would happen, many new people crashed after the first few days of violence and blood. It seemed like a good idea to take his shirt, socks, and shoes off, so not everything would get soaked by the shower, Jaskier wasn't even close to being clean. It took some time, but Eskel managed to get Jaskier clean, dry and bed ready. He carried him to his bed and tugged him in.

* * *

Geralt ran into a soaking wet Eskel on his way to his room.  
  


"How is he doing?"   
  


"Terrible. He didn't last 5 minutes on his own. I feel for him," Eskel said, but kept up his pace. Geralt watched him leave, then went to his own room. It took some time to get all of the blood out of his hair, thanks Jaskier, but Geralt was happy when he could crawl into bed. He wondered how Jaskier was doing if he would even be okay after this at all. Nearly killing someone you hate is fun and all, but the moral aftermath was something else to deal with. But Geralt let that slide for now, he let himself drift off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about making a seperate chapter for the gore, but honestly if you read a mafia AU you should know what you're getting into. But I do not blame you if you skip it. I got a sick joy out of it.
> 
> Why does Jaskier have a picture of the man he hates the most? Because he's Jaskier.


	7. Mixed signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt tries to help Jaskier deal with his emotions, but ends up sending him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/ Mention of violence, Mention of past trauma,

Jaskier shot up, breathing fast and covered in sweat. He was shaking and scared, but couldn't place why. A feeling of dread filled him, but he couldn't tell where it came from. Must have been the nightmare, there was blood and death and so much screaming. Tears flooded his eyes just thinking about it. He pulled the covers over his head. Today was a stay in bed day.

* * *

Geralt spent his morning looking into that Valdo Marx but came up mostly empty. His contacts could tell him he used to be a guy for hire that did anything for money but hasn't been taking jobs for years. Some more calls told him he had been out of commision for over ten years. It lined up strangely with Jaskier's story, but no one could tell him more. 

It was noon already and Geralt had heard nothing of Jaskier. He had sent someone over twice now and they got no response. Jaskier was probably fine, so Geralt spent some time with Ciri, but his mind kept wandering back to him. Ciri was getting annoyed with Geralt's constant zoning out and pulled his hair.   
  


"Ouch! Ciri!" Geralt growled.  
  


"You're playing with me or you're working! Not both!" She said and crossed her arms.  


"You're right. Sorry." Geralt sighed. "I had a weird day yesterday."   
  


"Then maybe you should work to get rid of it? We can play later," Ciri said, the ever understanding six-year-old.  
  


"Maybe I should. Will you be alright on your own? Stay in your room this time," he said. He remembered the last time she decided to go explore on her own and she was gone for three hours.  
  


"Promise Geralt!" She said. Geralt kissed her on the cheek and put her down.  
  


"I'll be back soon," he said and left the room. 

* * *

Jaskier's room wasn't far away and he knocked on the door. No response.  
  


"Jaskier?" Still nothing. Geralt opened the door. It wasn't locked. Geralt feared that Jaskier had left and walked inside the apartment. "Jaskier? Are you alright?" He was met with silence.   
  


"Hmm." Jaskier's guitar was still on the place he left it last night, so Jaskier didn't leave. Geralt entered the bedroom. "Jaskier?"   
  


"Hmm..." was the response he received. Geralt made his way to the bed and sat down.   
  


"Hey," he said softly. Jaskier was still under the covers, it looked like he didn't move all day. That can't be good. "Are you alright Jaskier?"   
  


"N-no, I feel weird. What happened last night? I don't really remember. It all feels like a big blur," Jaskier said. That was not good at all.  
  


"Talk to me."  
  


Jaskier pulled the covers off him and slowly sat up. His eyes were puffy and red, his cheeks wet.  
  


"I — I feel nothing. I feel empty and sad and..." His gaze fell to his hands. His nails were dirty, red streaks were stuck under them. Slowly memories flooded back, it wasn’t a nightmare. The blood and the screaming were real. Very real He covered his face. "Geralt how do you deal with this?" He sounded exasperated.  
  


Geralt wasn't exactly good with people, but he knew how to comfort and help Ciri so he decided to try the same thing on Jaskier. He carefully wrapped his arms around the man and held him against his chest. It seemed to work, Jaskier calmed down a bit.  
  


"It's gonna be okay Jaskier," he whispered. Jaskier curled up against Geralt's warm chest. This was nice, very nice. A little weird, but nice. More memories of last night came back and now he remembered everything.   
  


"How did you end him?" Jaskier asked.  


"I literally ripped his heart out. It seemed fitting," Geralt answered. Jaskier chuckled. Then he froze.  
  


"Oh gods," he whispered. "What's wrong with me?"  
  


"Hmm?"   
  


"Geralt, I mutilated someone and liked it! That is not normal!!" Jaskier said, trying not to panic.  
  


"I — think it is normal? At least in my line of work, it is," Geralt said awkwardly. He had done much worse for less. Jaskier shivered.  
  


"Not. Helping. Geralt! Oh gods what have I done..." Geralt gently scratched up and down his back, as that calmed Ciri down. It seemed to work for Jaskier too.  
  


"You did what you had to. I don't see anything wrong with that," Geralt said softly. "He was the vilest person I have ever met. I think you went out easy on him."  
  


"Easy? You call that easy?!"  
  


"Hmm. An eye for an eye Jaskier. I can't help you with your battle of morality. You have to face that on your own. But if you need someone to talk to I suggest Coën. He is better at communicating than I am." Geralt said, resting his head against the headboard. Jaskier nodded, his arms draped around Geralt. It seemed he didn't want to move any time soon. But then again, neither did Geralt.

* * *

"Lambert? Babe?" Eskel knocked on the door of Lambert's room. He hadn't seen him since yesterday and he was getting worried. Not that it was the first time his not-boyfriend locked himself away, but this was a different situation. This had something to do with Lambert’s past, but he hated talking about it. Eskel knocked again, it was his room too, goddammit. They shared a room when Eskel came to the mansion for the first time and had been sharing ever since. Lambert could kick him out, but he never did. 

There was no answer from the other side. Eskel thought fuck it and unlocked the door. Lambert was sitting on his bed, a bottle of whiskey in his hands. It was almost empty. Eskel closed and locked the door behind him. He crossed the room and knelt in front of the other.  "What's the drinking for? Talk to me," Eskel said, his voice filled with love and worry. Lambert didn't look him in the eye.  
  


"I could've — She could've — It's a bad one this time. I can't handle it," he said with a strained voice. He hated being this vulnerable, this open. Ciri already brought the best out of him against his will, but now she brought out the worst too, the whole situation was triggering bad memories.   
  


Eskel stood up and moved next to Lambert on the bed, taking the bottle from his hand. He laid down and pulled Lambert down with him.  


"Come here. Sleep it off. We'll figure something out." Eskel held Lambert tight against him. Sometimes he wished they could run. Live a different life, a boring life, but together. Not that Lambert would ever admit he loved him. Not even when he was threatened, but Eskel knew. They didn't love so openly, but they had each other when they needed it. Like right now, all Lambert needed was his pillar in the storm.  
  


"I'm not going anywhere, babe. Just sleep, I'll be here when you awake," Eskel whispered.

The words Eskel said echoed through his head. He is not going anywhere. It made Lambert feel warm and fuzzy, sad and hurt, and he didn't know what to do with that. He was filled to the brim with emotions he couldn't handle and he knew crying would take care of it, it would release pressure. It was just him and Eskel, no one would bother them any time soon, Lambert requested a day off. So in the safest arms he knew, Lambert cried. His head pressed in the nook of Eskel's neck, his hands behind Eskel's back. A gentle hand went through his short hair, another pressed on his lower back.  
  


"I got you," Eskel whispered. His shoulders shook, his grip tightened.  
  


"F-fuck — Eskel..." he said between sobs. He didn't deserve a man like Eskel, he knew that. But he did love him. Lambert would never admit that it was bad for his image, it made Eskel a target, another known weakness. But even so, he loved him and always would.  
  


Eskel nuzzled his head, pressed a soft kiss on his temple. There were a few moments he could show his affection to Lambert and he took every single one of them. He didn't mind that the world thought they were just friends, that calling him babe was just a joke, the 'I love you's' were taken as banter, the touches as a way to annoy. It was perfect, no one would guess that he meant them. He loved Lambert more than anything.

* * *

Geralt woke up with a pain in his neck. Falling asleep while half sitting up is never a good idea. He sat up and stretched his neck. What time was it? It took him another second to realize that Jaskier was missing too.  "Fuck — Jaskier!" he called out but got no response. He stood up and adjusted his suit. He left the bedroom. The guitar was still in place, but the main door was open. Jaskier went to explore. Geralt went through the mansion, checking some main rooms first like his office and the kitchen, but there was no sight of Jaskier. Then he noticed the music. Geralt followed the sound of an upbeat tune, combined with upbeat lyrics. It sounded like Jaskier. He must be feeling better.

Jaskier was ecstatic at the sight of the grand piano when he found it. He loved the instrument and started playing immediately, happy it was in tune and taken care of. After a few songs to get used to the feeling again he played his favorite song. He was already done with feeling bad, so he archived that battle for later and focused on being happy for the time being. Valdo was out of his life, so his career could get some meaning. Ciri was saved, thanks to him. He kissed Geralt Rivia, he couldn't wait to tell Triss. Life wasn't so bad after all. At least for now.

  
  


As Geralt approached the source of the music, he saw Ciri sneaking around too.  
  


"Ciri. What did I say?" he said with his hands on his hips. Ciri froze.  
  


"Stay in your room? But Geralt, there is music! I've been hearing Jaskier’s music for days now! I want to listen!" she pouted. Geralt walked over to her and picked her up.   
  


"Let's listen together, shall we?" Geralt said and Ciri nodded happily.

  
  


Jaskier played the song again, it cheered him up. He didn't notice the new audience and sang to his fullest. He finished the song and jumped at the sound of applause. He turned around and saw Geralt and Ciri, both clapping for him. He smiled and blushed, while used to an audience, this was a bit more intimate.   
  


"That was so pretty!" Ciri exclaimed. Geralt agreed.  
  


"You have quite a voice Jaskier." Jaskier laughed and smiled brightly.  
  


"Thank you. My piano is a bit rusty though," he said.   
  


"No, you were so good! Can you play another song?" Ciri asked. Geralt put her down and she climbed next to Jaskier on the stool.  
  


"Of course my lady. Hmm... how about," Jaskier started playing a popular song he thought Ciri would know. She did and sang along with him.  
  


This was more the Jaskier Geralt had seen before. Happy, bubbly, not a care in the world. This was what Geralt had read in his notebook, always bouncing back after a tragedy. He wondered if Jaskier was okay mentally, but he wasn't himself either, so who was he to judge?

  
  


Ciri kept asking for songs and Jaskier happily obliged. She loved music and leaned against Jaskier as she listened.   
  


"Jaskier? Can you teach me?"   
  


"To play the piano? Sure," Jaskier started and explained how a piano worked and taught her a few notes. Ciri caught on quickly and could play a simple song.   
  


"You have a talent for music. Maybe you should get lessons..." Jaskier looked back at Geralt. Geralt raised an eyebrow.   
  


"I could, but I don't teach for free," Jaskier continued. Ciri turned to Geralt.  
  


"Can I get music lessons? Please?" she begged. Geralt grumbled.  
  


"I'll think about it. But I thought I said you had to stay in your room," he said.  
  


"But Geralt!!" Ciri whined.  
  


"You should listen to your father, dear. I'll have a chat with him," Jaskier said and winked at Ciri. Ciri nodded and hugged him.   
  


"Thank you, Jaskier!" She said.  
  


"You're welcome, dear. Now hurry along!" Ciri jumped on the ground and ran back to her room.

  
  


Geralt walked to Jaskier and crossed his arms.  "Just because the door isn't locked, doesn't mean you can explore," he said. Jaskier shrugged.   
  


"What's the worst that could happen? How dangerous can this place be?" he asked. Geralt wasn't sure how to answer that without telling the truth. Instead, Geralt went straight to the point, better to break things off now before he actually felt something real.  
  


"You can't stay here. You should leave, for your own safety. The deal has been done, please pack your things. I'll have someone drive you home," Geralt said.   
  


"I take that's a no on the lessons? Or a second date?" Jaskier said.  
  


"Second date?" Geralt raised an eyebrow at that.  
  


"Well, last night was intimate enough to be classified as a date. I-I think so at least.." Jaskier was stalling, he didn't want to leave. Leaving meant leaving Geralt forever and he didn't want that.   
  


"Fair enough. But it is a no on both. Now please Jaskier," Geralt said, trying to sound stern instead of hurt. Jaskier was fidgeting with his fingers again, a nervous tic Geralt thought, but he didn't make any move to leave.   
  


"But what if... I stay?" Jaskier tried. "I can move some of my things over, the place I have here is twice the size of my own apartment. I can live there. I can earn my keep with music lessons for Ciri and a few shows once in a while. I mean — If you let me," Jaskier said hopefully. Geralt was baffled, again his man was speaking without thinking. "I won't be in your way. You won't even know I'm here," Jaskier said.  
  


"I doubt that you've been very present the last few days," Geralt replied. "You barely know me. You know enough to know that this is a bad idea. Why?"   
  


"Well..." Jaskier stopped himself from blurting out a love confession. He fell in love with everyone he met, Geralt was no exception. Only that Geralt was the exception because Jaskier had fallen hard for him. Something was drawing him to this mysterious man, whether it was the suits, the money or his 'work' Jaskier couldn't tell. But he knew he wanted Geralt in his life.  
  


"Well?" Geralt asked.  
  


"I... " But Jaskier couldn't think of an excuse. There was no good reason for him to stay. Geralt waited patiently for an answer that never came. Jaskier stood up without saying another word and moved past him, presumedly to his room. Geralt watched him leave and he felt bad, but this isn't a scene for a musician. Not even a sadistic one. 

* * *

Jaskier nearly ran to his room, he didn't want Geralt to see him cry. Geralt was right, of course he was, but Jaskier had hoped he would make a stupid decision and let Jaskier stay. But that hope was shattered. Jaskier quickly gathered his few belongings, mainly his guitar and notebook. He hesitated, but opened the notebook and ripped a page out. He signed it with his name, folded it, and left it on his bed for Geralt to find. Or not. Probably not. Geralt wouldn't come back here, but it was worth a shot.

Geralt gave Jaskier half an hour to pack and sent a servant to pick him up. Cahir would be driving him home since Eskel and Lambert were nowhere to be found. He wondered briefly if he should let Jaskier stay, but pushed that thought out of his head. Too dangerous, not worth it. His desires shouldn’t get in the way of the business. Jaskier was a liability, even if he was a cute one. Everything inside him wanted Jaskier to stay, but he couldn’t allow it.

  
  


Ciri gave Jaskier a hug.  
  


"I don't want you to go, your music is nice.." she said and pouted. Jaskier smiled.  
  


"Thank you, dear. Maybe some other time. Be nice to your father okay? And say bye and thank you to Lambert and Eskel from me." He pulled Ciri in one last hug and got up. He faced Geralt.   
  


"I'm ready to go." Geralt walked him to the front door. They looked at each other for a moment, neither knew how to say goodbye. Jaskier took the initiative and gave Geralt a soft peck on his cheek.  
  


"Goodbye Geralt. Can I still persuade you for a second date?" Jaskier tried. Geralt chuckled.  
  


"No. Goodbye Jaskier. Thank you for your warning," Geralt said and put his hand on Jaskier's face. He brought him closer, allowing Jaskier to close the gap or pull away. To his disappointment, Jaskier pulled away. But Jaskier changed his mind and kissed him anyway. Geralt kissed him back, his other arm wrapped around his waist. When they parted, both let out a laugh.  
  


“I’m getting mixed signals here Geralt. Are you sure about the no?”  
  


"Maybe you'll get a second date. If things quiet down someday. But don't get your hopes up," Geralt said. Jaskier gave him one last peck on the lips.  
  


"Don't say that to a dreamer. See you around Geralt," Jaskier said and stepped back. He followed Cahir to the car. Ciri had joined Geralt and waved at him on his arm. Jaskier waved back and stepped into the car.   
  


Geralt stood outside until the car had left.    
  


"Hmmm. So Cucciola... You want music lessons?" Ciri nodded enthusiastically.    
  


"Please Geralt? I want to play everything!" she said.    
  


"I might know someone that can teach you violin if you want."   
  


"Yes!!" Ciri's enthusiasm made Geralt smile too.   
  


"I'll give him a call. If he’s still alive..."

* * *

Eskel had seen some shit in his life. He had cleaned up some fucked up shit. Disposed of many different bodies. But this. This was new. The body of Valdo Marx was still tied to the chair, one eye was destroyed, the cut through the face was ugly and went so far down Eskel wasn't sure where it ended. The hole in the chest was straight out of a horror movie, the jar with the heart only added to the feeling. Luckily it was freezing in this building, or else he had refused to take care of this. Take care of him, Geralt had said. Make sure he will never be found. Easy enough, if only he didn't look like a monster. Eskel hated his job with a passion.

* * *

The ride back home was silent, Cahir didn't say a word and Jaskier didn't feel like talking. Another day, another heartbreak. Jaskier reached his home and unlocked the door, his apartment looked so much smaller than it did before. He sighed and let himself fall on the couch. It was weird, but he felt homesick. He had lived here for a few years, but those few days in Geralt’s mansion felt more like home than this place ever did. But happiness never stayed long by his side, so it was inevitable that Geralt sent him away. He sniffled and wiped away a stray tear. Back to normal, the lonely, lonely normal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are allowed to yell at me, I am prepared. The next series will be posted next week.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this, I appreciate and love all of you! Until series two next week <3

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the song [Bust your kneecaps](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlDGFrP4NgI) and the beautiful art of [Sayuri527art](https://twitter.com/Sayuri527art/status/1235470643430375424)
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MagikaMiss)


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